windthread

in the last several days,  Tenzen has transformed.   No longer the quiet one,  he has become very suddenly a vocal tyrant.    Standing on the roof of their hut,  he repeats and repeats his most heartfelt vocalizations that are the tongue blubbering followed by a shrill falsetta call.   Repeat.  Repeat.  etc.  Young Nogal stands rapt beneath him,  does not challenge him,  but mutters quietly as he is sprayed (willingly) in the face  with Goat jiz.   This has ended with dark until last night.  I was awakened at 11:30 by something and listened and there we go again.  My hood can be completely silent at night.  This night it was so and   I "willed" him to stop for a half hour,  he was the only only Sound.   The ONLY sound.  Over and Over and Over.  So i got up and with the flashlight turned on the hose at the house, went out in my underpants in the dark and 

hosed him.

it was a distance away,  his roof,  so he only got sprayed but it did the trick.  Enough was Enough and today was moderate in comparison.  But tonight,  a day from Full Moon.  From these days forward i will call this moon the Tenzen Moon.  It's not something easy to forget.  It is just dusk now.  How will things go tonight????  And Why,  has he suddenly changed?  By next year,  if all the same of us are still here,  young Nogal will challenge him and it will become a different story altogether.  Nogal has large scur horns.  Tenzen, successful disbudding which means,  no horns.  Next year it will become Nogal's year.  So maybe that's it.  Take your one year when it comes.  Live it to it's fullest.  So, Ok.

Tomorrow the new Vet returns to "read" the TB test under Sonny Ray's tail.  How difficult is That going to be????  with two people,  me being one?  I have no idea.

 

stitched down.  Enough.

 

maybe this will go in?   From Roz Hawker.   Were supposed to be earrings,  but that was in my dreams,  i no longer wear earrings,  so instead on a string,  which i also no longer wear.  Me.  Nothing but a body.  But  sometimes i wear the necklace….the silver with a Goat's Head,  the copper with the Diamond and a Dot.   I think it will go In,  for the granddaughter.  Sometimes, i'll wear it still.   But anything on my body now feels like too much.

 

first pouch.  Finish the inside Rim

 

then they will be sewn together,  back to back.  Just the two might be enough for the small bits of paper.  I don't know,  but enough to begin.

 

At the old cowboy's today he was frail.  weak.  but restless.  Had been awake since 3 am but wanted to sit up,  so ok….

We sat,  probably an hour and a half, him in his Del Rio Bar Tshirt and diaper on the side of his hospital bed.     me in my bleach design La Rana (frog) Tshirt and i guess what are called capri pants on the seat of his 4 wheel walker,  knees to knees.    He fumbled.  He dropped his little pieces of paper towel on the floor,  then leaned precariously to retrieve them.  Over and over he did this.  Alz B used to do something very similar and i wonder what this is,  dropping and retrieving.  Much mumbling that i couldn't understand.

From the book,  Die Wise,  Stephen Jenkinson

"Dying well is the same kind of act as Gandhi's cotton spinning or salt harvesting; a nonviolent insurrection that dares the statuus quo to oppose or prevent it.  Dying well gathers adversaries.  Of this you can be sure.  Dying well means dying knowing that there is much at stake for the greater good.  Whose death is it, anyway?  It is all of our deaths,  one death at a time, until our time comes.  It is one enduring place where we can declare what and who we are willing to be to each other.  We can reclaim our way of dying and decide upon it,  and we must do so now.  We can take it from the hands of professionalization and privacy  and legislated monopoly only by assuming the greater responsibility of learning about death in the course of our lives, and teaching it if we are able, and by being an exemplar, an incarnation of what we advocate when our time comes."

SO.  We,  he and I,  have reclaimed and claimed.   Declaring who and what we are willing to be to each other.  Ok.  Ok.  

and ok.  

Jenkinson talks a lot about stories.  and it is true,  it seems.  that Our Stories are what we GIVE Life.  How we feed ourselves and one another and Give,  back into Life,  what there is that can be taken of us, forward, through and beyond our death.

so i searched in my mind, my memory for stories he had told me over the years and really,  there are only a few.  Most of his story is about his money.  But there are the stories about what his father told him.   

Use Common Sense.  Judgement.

If you don't know,  find someone who might and get a second opinion.

Don't steal.  You are only stealing from yourSelf.

Respect your elders.  You will be one, someday.

 

over and over,  he has repeated these things to me so i think to say them back to him today,  as what his dad Leroy had always said,  how they had become his story and by telling me this so many times,  they have now become My story too.  How he gave me Good Story.   But it seems that he isn't listening.  I don't know tho.  I don't know how to Help.  It seems such a struggle for him.  We spent a lot of time in silence.