windthread

need  to find another way to do these days…if i can.   Tomorrow there will be somewhat of a reprieve… only 34% chance of rain.  What that means usually is that there will be intermittant rain through the  day.   Which i will be so grateful for.  But then  forecast is to roll right back into daily rain.  Weeks still.   so..ok.   it will be what it will be.   and i keep reminding self that it's probably going to change come  February.  so…not forever,   right?     It's never been this way before.    Maybe i can try drawing what it feels like.  

 

:

,

as if there are two eyes.    About yesterday…..  Faith ,  Airy Cat   Airy Nothing said

"and Gaia wept softly,  for those left behind,  as she embraced one of her own to their goodbyes"    

this.   2 ways of seeing.   Both.   Complimenting each other.    Needed.

 

 

 

i loaded these two pics early in the morning.   those words of the "title" being their story at the time.  

But then….i went out to Feed.   All ordinary until i got down to Nogal.    He was not out.   as i walked,  i called for him.  As i walked there came a plaintive response….plaintiive…something wrong….    He was no where in sight  and his "house"  his calf hutch house….Maybe ?,  in it's back?    i unlatched his gate,  went in and there he was.    lying flat….unable to get up.  Trying and unable to get up.  He made sounds to me and i caressed his face and he made sounds and he couldn't get up.   I stayed a while and then went to call Alyssia.  We need help.   She came and we agreed to call the mobile Vet,  Sarah Lynn who has come before,  who came for Sunny Ray.   At first she didn't answer but then did.  Was a half hour away on another call.  Would come and she did.   Tetnus.  Clostridium tetni.   a bacterium that lives in the soil.   The onset is sudden,  the progression can be fast which it was.   Just on New Year's Day,  that day of SUN,  all was well.   and then yesterday,  the  Hard Day of Rain and i don't know because he didn't come out but i thought it was rain and sailed him a block of feed to this doorway.    By the time she got here,  a half hour,  he had already become blind.   His rear was stiffened,  his head arching back in what she said is called Star Gazing.

she is soft spoken but sure.   She said she could try to keep him alive.   there was a slim chance.  But he would remain blind and there would be residual disability.   We all were quiet a while .  while i held his head.  Talked to him.    She shaved  a place on his neck and put him down.   

Alyssia began digging the grave.   a ways away from where he was but where it seemed the most likely to be able to dig.  Many places here are not.  the granite is close up.   She dug.  there was a soft rain.   She left to pick up Emrie from school and returned.  She dug more,  Emrie wanted to help and did.   They dug.   Emrie sang.   many songs, quietly,  just songs…like the alfabet song and then songs from Frozen that she knows.   and we talked off and on of other things and we talked off and on about him.  Why were his eyes still open if he was dead?   She talked about how he had come to trust us,  and then to love us.  outright….wanting us,   wanting us to be with him,  wanting us to touch and then more,  to rub and  scratch and laugh with him.   We talked about how he had come to be ok being loved and how that felt to us,  to be Wanted to give love,  how we were loved by him.   and how that took a long time of bringing 3 tortilla chips every time so he'd know.  We talked a little about how it was so obvious that Who He Was was no longer there….that it was a body.  But Who He Was was no longer there.  She could see that.

i brought down one of the sheets that Lacelady had sent and we made a sling of it,  got him in and i held his head end,  Alyssia the most of his body with Emrie at the side   and we got him over and through the small opening in his feeding pen,  down to where his grave was,  not far from TenZen's  and lowered him in.   His legs were still stiffly out and Alyssia knelt and bent them. 

and he was then,  softly there.  Rain picked up and we covered him.   

Nogal.  walnut in Spanish.  He looked like a little walnut when he was born.   He was the offsring of Alyssia's most loved Goat Buckwheat who was the buck of all bucks,   BeautyFull and perfectly symetrically marked and also crazy buck.   I bred him in order to keep one of his kids for her.  Could not keep him.   He needed to be of use for what bucks are best at and i wasn't at that place.  That was back in New Mex.   Nogal was not like his sire.  He was soft and gentle with does….it took him forever to woo them,  to feel ok about mounting them.  He was not the most popular.   He was him.  He was shy and till the end,  it was only Emrie and I he loved.

 

 

yesterday,   when there was SUN,  after feeding Jack Flash,  i walked on down to B Garden.  I wanted to look for something in the tubs.   These are things i brought back.   i didn't find what i was looking for.   This string bag,  i've had since i was in my 20's.  I've never used it for anything.   Just HAD it.   I loved it.  Was afraid of wearing it out.  Damaging it somehow.   i saw it yesterday and thought it would be the prefect PICNIC bag for me and Emrie.   it has no weight of its self and so could carry an apple,  string cheese,  maybe a donut.   easily.   it could go over Her shoulder.   and as i look at it,  the pattern is one of Goat Eyes.  Perfect.

i also see that the wall cloth is 

dirty

it had fallen off and i just put it back….but …eeeee……

and then the other things…not sure how they drew attention,  but they did.   so they are here too.   A large part of this day was spent thinking about them…where they came from,  how they FEEL,  seeing them here on this table.

RAIN AGAIN

here it's just pinned.   Has since been stitched in place.   10 and 11.    This one will take the Center position on the blanket i make for my self.   It created its self.   chose.   its self.    in order to show     me.   

i spent time wondering about  "new Year".    maybe it doesn't need to continue to have meaning…?….what exactly is the use of its meaning?    does it serve good purpose?,  any purpose?   and on.    There weren't any  answers but it ended up staying.  It's how we organize days and years.   ok.  but this time it was/is different.   Things i've done for so long,  that i took such pleasure in,  just didn't happen.   no fanfare,  just didn't happen.    the crab legs…a once a year extravagance.   i made potatoe carrot soup.    The ritual with the Butterfly Calendar….going through the passing year,  month by month,   bring forward what might be helpful or interesting  as notes on the New Year's.    I sat with January,  2022.   January 23  has one entry on the third.   the rest is blank.  Waiting.  But the Butterfly Calendar is strong.

after a week of,   to be honest,   Miserable Rain  sog and mud,   miserable because Goats still expect, need,  routine…. today was Brilliantly and Elegantly SUN ny.   the day Glowed with green,  with reflected drops of rain,  muchrooms i've not seen before,  and ….and….the tree frogs….my "spring peepers" of the mid west…began their Song.    tomorrow and forecast through the next 2 weeks…more Rain.   the aquifers will fill.  the aquifers will fill.   this could be a song.   but it does not erase the misery.   That will come with February….i smile….a new month marked by calendar.    

i am different.  becoming different~er.   i have no idea,  zero,   exactly what that means.    I'll have to wait and find out as it happens.   is a good feeling.   it all connects with that post of i think 12~16,   about the 77.   that sense of becoming Free.  i look forward to seeing how things

go

Much love to All here,   and every where.   But to all Here.  Much.

it's 12:21 I tried to post here over and over ….and i did it one more time before giving up on the day…and   here it is.   But i am done in.   So….just this.

a quote from Nancy,  Pomegranate Trail      "May the things that matter to you be ever present in your life".   

may this be so in this coming year.   My love to All who come here.

 

 

 

it's a big book.  coffee table type.   Beauty FULL book.   i should take more pics.     or      i should take pics of food i 

cook.

Make.

Food.   i love it.  love "ethnic" foods.  Most of all maybe i love Indian food.   Having been there,  where the very air you breathe is food.    Spice.   Making.   Making food.  Food being made.

all of us love indian food.   There is no place ie a restaurant for it here.   There is one in Chico.   i don't go to Chico.    I have no spices anymore.    I think of whole cardomom.   What it does first sauteed in ghee and then simmering long in a curry.  A simple spice but i haven't had any for maybe 6 years.   Why.    Food takes time.     

Rest as Resistance

slow cooking is a certain kind of Rest.   it asks things of us.   to not hurry.   to focus,   to attend to the happenings in the pot or pan,  to Smell the ongoing of the transformation of ingredients as they marry..or as someone recently said,  become friendly.

Maybe this is the Year that i will give self to making Indian Food.  To really going slow,  taking the time to let it teach me.   Back in N Mex i could drive to Albuquerque to World Market for spices.   Here,  in fancy California,  i'd maybe find these in Sacramento,  almost 2 hours away.    OR,  i can get them

on line.

how do i feel about that?

i looked,  last night,  and learned about Hing.    Something to be said about and for   On Line.

 

it has rained.   All day.   the forecast is

Rain

At the Post Office.   

Maria found this California Key Chain at her Flea Market in Belgium.   The Thread is Strong.

her  eco  dye cloth,  blackberries and  leaf.    

 

it happened again.   Yesterday….the NYT to help me think about Covid.  Today,  it's NPR to surprise me.   To help me think about Resistance.   About all that i have been working through is in fact,   Resistance.

and of course.   it began this morning at first light with 1  2  and  3.    the quiet Beauty of how things are.  and then….3 insisted.  To be amidst the Quiet,   the cloth i have always called,  in my own mind,  not aloud,  always called the Warrior cloth.  Never aloud because of misinterpretation…warrior…concept of warrior… This, .the Stand and Face What You Know kind of woman warrior.  The No Te Rindas warrior woman.    we could use the thing of        Resistance.    i wish i could have worn the dress.   it didn't fit.  But this allows it to be here now,  in this way.  This morning.  in the days of the coming of the New Year,  so in need of understanding this kind of     Resistance.   

4 was immediately there.   But i looked and looked for what seemed like forever for 5 which i remembered but couldn't picture,  but knew i would recognize.     And finally…yes.   5.     and to Stop      at this point.   Sit with this much.   Let them be fully what they Are.

NPR All Things Considered.   How to think about rest as a form of resistance.  Shereen Marisol Meraji interview with Trisha Hersey.   

Rest as Resistance

Our productivity equates to our worth.

……,   my productivity equates to my sense of self worth.     productivity means  Making.    I must be Making.

this is going to take time.   deep time.   but it's the answer to so much that i wasn't understanding.       even in the cloth making,   the  buying into capitalism,  the driver of this culture.      

Another Atmospheric River.   Deluge.     HUGE WIND.   making these thoughts even more clear.

i look forward to tomorrow,  to 6.   i have no idea.