windthread

What i didn't say yesterday,  that while waiting for the Vet,  i milked Nutmeg.  Has been so long,  since i milked.  What a true miracle it is that an animal will give this to us.  The milk itself,  but then the possibility of making cheese with this milk.  If there were no way to obtain food,  this in itself would sustain.

And when we walked back to her Hay Barn,  a very large Pole Barn,  entering it,  the fragrance,  how light entered in all cracks,  how i was suddenly flooded with how much i feel

at home

in shelters like this.  With animals.   It runs deep.  Am thinking about that.

Nanette has gifted me with two blog links:  ruitfarm.wordpress.com  at the coast of Maine and thekitchensgarden.com  I think somewhere in Illinois.   Both working farms.  Both blogs written by women who love their Work,  love their Place on this planet.  Both i will learn from.

When i first arrived,  coming up Jan's driveway,  which is so long,  it is really a road,  right there,  just right there at the road was a deer.  and as i stopped,  leisurely turned her white rump to me but did not run.   And mentioning this to Jan,  she showed me her Grand Plan of building a greenhouse inside the structure of her gazebo that is bolted in cement.  The greenhouse because there is nowhere on all that land of hers that she can grow a garden.  All is consumed by deer and rabbits.  Every seedling.  So,  as that old woman said to me so long ago when i was explaining to her why i ran away from my old life,  this at a campground somewhere in Yosemite,  she listened carefully and then said "Every garden has its  snake".    

So, all last evening,  off and on during the night,  all early morning,  I think about SunnyRay.  How if he had just stayed at the far end of the pen,  just looked at me.  But how he didn't.  How when i said Come Come,  stinky baby,  how he Came….with such gladness,  pressed his nose against my hand,  turned his head so i could scratch….   So,  we have gone too far,  me and SunnyRay.  If it turns out he is sterile and has no work in Magdalena,  i will find a way to bring him Home.  Will living out his life for the next 5 or 6 years as a sterile intact buck,  driven daily by hormones,  will this really be better than a merciful death?  I have no answer.  I will have no answer.  But i will bring him Home.  And i will learn.  IF i decide at some point to breed again,  so i can milk,  i will be so much wiser.  From the beginning.  Jan will help with finding places for the kids.  And they will GO.  Any of them.  All of them.  They will not have names … other than baby.  

And completely intertwined with all the above is this thing about Home.  How this thing about Home seems to be everywhere right now,  how Saskia wrote how The Old Bird King's place has been given the name Dwelling.  and in the united states mail i receive a note from an old old friend with a cut out little piece of article entitled Home that gives no reference for what it was cut out of,  but is credited to Sarah Begley

Home

Tools, Language and controlled fire are often cited as critical advancements in Homo sapiens' evolution.  But in his new book, neuro~anthropologist John S. Allen argues that our move into dwellings may be just as important…if not more so.  Beyond providing protection from the elements and predators,  homes created spaces where complex social interactions could take place and mates and offspring could become families.  They also enabled early humans to sleep securely and soundly, which has been shown to increase brain functions like learning and memory formation.  Dwellings are "critical not only for resting but also for thinking."  Allen writes.  "By removing us from the distractions and stimuli of the outside world and providing a wholly predictable environment" they give us "an opportunity to use our mental powers to better deal with that world:.  Hence, the word used to describe that feeling we get when we stray too long: homesickness.

 John S. Allen   neuro~anthropologist   the book….Home   How habitat made us human.

how it's been on my mind.  Home.  the Diorama.

 

and still,  today,  this.

 

but then,  it went on

 

and then went ON into this progression

 

 

 

 

cloth.  Belove ~ed cloth.  That Talks the story when i don't know how.