windthread

i really like pie.   it's been probably maybe 7 years since i've made one.   Part of the reason is that the Mom's No Fail Piecrust makes crust for TWO pies.   Usually,  under ordinary circumstances you only want one.   Two pies are a lot…for ordinary circumstances.   But,  also,   it takes all afternoon.   And as i look at them here,  after all is said and done,  after all afternoon,    i thought…..

so what?

an afternoon.  maybe once a month.   Why not?   and then i started wondering if i could make pies with vegetables in them.  Not dessert.   I love pie crust and stuff IN it.   ?????    

 

not sure how this pic ended up here,  but it's ok.   It's the Cherry.   that looks pale in the above pic.   it is paler than the Apple but not really pale at all.    Am interested in how each tastes.   the Apple left to bake longer.     

Jenny is sleeping over at Alyssia's tonight so they can begin at the crack of dawn.   it's a 25lb Turkey that Jenny's man is given at work each year.   i am taking Laundry.   Will do.  inbetween whatEver else.   Alyssia called on the last leg of the trip back from San Diego.   We talked to keep her focused.   minutia.   stories from her friend Chelle"s.   Their food,  Blend of Filipeno/American     What it was like for Emrie.  For Julian,  Julian who knows Chelle and her husband Chris from  babyhood.  They are family too.   Chelle"s mother,  Momsie,  couldn't come.  Covid.    

it's a different year this year.

it will be the center Spiral in Alyssia's Quilt.   She loves night.   the  1,  which is larger than 2 1/2 inches,  but i didn't want to cut it.  It's all there is of it.   so 2 had to become smaller but it works….Night.  and she loves purple.   And then….surrounding her Night with Gentle Day that Cynthia wishes Us All…   to surround her night which she can't have much of anymore with her commitment to Mothering…but SomeDay….Night will become hers again    So,  this Spiral,   a promise that Night will become hers again

 

went down to the storage bins at B Garden to get the other pie plate…which turns out to be only in my imagination…no other pie plate there in the bin of Belov~ed pyrex.   a shallow casserole dish will have to work  but/and i got lost in the bins,  looking,  so much stuff there,  so much love   and i found Old Cowboy's mother's  ummm big Fork which i will take Saturday to hold the turkey as it's sliced.         and then the recipe for the pie crust…my mother's No Fail Pie Crust.   I have it written in my address book,  under P.   But i wanted the index card.   So the recipe box.  Where i got lost again.   And Jenny called and i took her in my lost wandering.   She's making pumpkin pie.   i asked….what crust?  and she said with a DUH inflection…Gramma's No Fail,  of course!  and i won't put the recipe here,  it's embarassing and even shameful.   But when you are making THE pie…it has to be this Gramma's No Fail.   I have tried a million pie crusts  in effort to break away,  but…..return and return.  it's just How It Is.   

it was a Gentle day.   I hope for All,  it was,   too.  I wish for the World.  Gentle day.  i wish,  oh, Please…just Gentle day

a pine cone bud that Emrie brought to me.  interrupted probably by Wind?

 

finding what might be 10  and  11    .    took a long time  and finally,  10    a piece of the SUN,  which there is not much of.  The SUN cloth that is the SUN of LIFE of deep summer that grows all that want growing.    

and i remembered.

when i worked on the Psych Unit at University Hospital…     If it was quiet on the ward,  sometimes we could do what we wanted to do.   There was a young one,  i think probably 19,  he had to be 18 to be on the Adult Admitting Unit,    and he had already come to us a couple times.    Would be admitted for suicidal ideation.   I liked him.  a lot.   He wasn't on my "team" but sometimes when it was quiet,  i could and would take him for a 1:1 to the gym.   We were quiet on the way but when i keyed the door and turned on the lights…a full gym space….it all changed.   I sat on a stack of mats and he set to it.    He  s wirled,  spun,  flew all over,  singing,  words but also a sound track,  Show tunes some,  some,  like the Supremes…Baby Love   non stop and nothing less than estatically,   joyfully,   Full Full on until the hour was up and we'd turn off the lights and leave.   His father was a professor and head of some department.   

i looked at this Spiral…it's energy …. and then spent the rest of the day looking at the faces of those who had died at Club Q.  Stopping.  Breathing.   eyes closed,   feeling Them.   I thought about what i have learned about one,   whose long time friend from high school came to watch him perform,  on his birthday…bringing her boyfriend and parents….to CELEBRATE him

maybe all this is uhhhh,   well,   maybe all this is

not possible.

but i thought,  and thought isn't the right word,   i ,    felt/sensed…..What if.   What if  at that SUDDEN moment,   that milisecond  of the strike of a bullet that severed him from this way of Being…that instant….What if he was in that kind of ecstatic joyfull consciousness of being his truest and most real real self……feeling FREE to BE in a loving space unlike any other he had experienced….Could that instant,   before the slide into seperation be like this cloth?   A blinding Flash of ALL?    Could it?   

so much about

death.

we can't know.

but maybe.   and if yes or if no,  i will wish this for Them.   a single blinding flash,  like the burst of a shooting star

something going on here.  i hesitated.   will Wait.  over night,  waking in the Morning….want to see it just this way before continuing with  10  and  11.    Something going on.      And i read Judy Martin's post   Judy's Journal   the work of  Anong Beam and toward the end…pigment.   Deb G's work   Bee Creative   with 

pigment

and it connects   like almost everything DOES it seems in these days now…like the mycelium.   it is accelerating,  the connecting.  and   i have been  ReMembering memories that also are like mycelium and i think i've had enough of them,  they have proven their point….point being

This too

everywhere you turn…..This too.  The connections are pulsing in soft neon.   get TShirts made with    This TOO.

 

an odd day.   like it had no name.  almost didn't exist.  like it floated,  hovered,  but didn't attach….????

first thing,  waking,   i looked over at all those Spirals in front of me and they were hovering…for a few moments i was at a loss as to how this could possibly by…they were attached to nothing…not sewn onto anything….just there    as if by Magic

and then i thought o….they are sewn to eachother.   O.   but in a second,  that too seemed surreal.  Sewn to Each Other?  and

hovering?

the night before last i had the most BEST dream ihave Ever Had in my whole life.   it was so extraordinary.  and then last night it was the paradox.  Maybe that?    There's only some days left of this 77th year.    Things are all  all trying to take form so i can go.

When Alyssia came to bring ice and batteries,  all three kids came.   Not usual.   Jax doesn't often want to come.  He has issues with having to wear a mask.   Brinley sometimes comes.   But usually it's for Alyssia and Emrie Time.   I wore the mask in the pic and said i thought of it as having a leaf on my face.    I don't like wearing them either.  When it's just Emrie  and A,  i don't…tho they do.   As Emrie said today to Jax….i don't notice anymore.   and she doesn't.   for her and Alyssia,  it's kinda like wearing a hat.   or sunglasses.   or something.   no biggie.  I had cut apple slices for them to feed the Goats

there is talk of Thanksgiving on Saturday,  Jenny's day off,  IF she is off.   At her work  at the hospital they are totally short staffed and the staff they have is falling to Covid.   Still….i gave my grocery list to Alyssia.   She does the big shop for me with my old lady California "food stamp" money that is automatic when your social security $ is below a certain level.      I am the Pie person.  3 of them.  Pumpkin Cherry and Apple.     and the Green Bean Casserole.  Turkey is Alyssia.  I will be gravy.  

memories continue to kinda flood in.  triggered.    When i lived in Oregon,   Horton,   Oregon     on a mountain there….my refrigeration was a tiny stream flowing in a rock crevice.  ice cold at all times.   I lived there in the Airstream i bought there. Horton was a little general store and post office.    That's it.   When i drove down to that store and post office i drove into a fog,  a mist  where everything disappeared for long moments but reappeared.   like Magic.  i am noticing how that word…Magic…is coming up lately,  hasn't for a long time.  but Magic again.  hmmmm.

 

 

 

was hesitant.   it's not,  uhhhh,  lovely in any way,   11,   i've not used any of it ever before,  but have carried it with me for 30 some years….a piece of fabric gotten in Oregon.  1989?    From when i lived there a while,  made the Art Dolls and selling  at the Eugene  Artist Market.   Made my living that way.    it brought back memories of those times,  setting up for the Market on weekends,   for a while there was a guy who was a street person…would come to hang out with me at my booth.  Brought lunch which was a wild variety of delicacies  he scrounged from restaurant dumpsters to share.   I was hungry.  it was great.  The cloth bought from a young woman whose name was Beautiful Mountain.  They had i don't know how many kids,  she was breast feeding at least 3 and she WAS Beauty Full,  her,  her Beingness….they made plant essences.     and out of the blue i remembered that this piece of canvas i use as a wall cloth here…it's from then….is from one of the 3 panals of that booth.

so..11   and i thought…this can't possibly work…but………………..it does.  Cloth is ALL INCLUSIVE.   Cloth does not say No.

 

fast.   things move.   Saturday morning and i thought how my mind felt like Central Europe.   All these different countries with different customs,  different "interests",  different Languages.   delineated by borders that really,  don't exist.   here,  waking to the country of Making,   and then moving through,  to the country  of  the book,   Ways of Being,   and today,  saturdays,  the On Being country of the community read.   then,   family,   this Hill,   Spirit Cloth,   the country of our blogs,  the country of the News.   How i travel this way…all with my mind.  All IN my mind.   

Toyon.   Color is not true.   the berries are a vibrant orange/red.   i learned this eve they are edible.   I think of Marti.   Would they mark cloth?

 

 

the Plumcot.   Every year she has developed a curled leaf thing.    It should be fairly easy to find out what that means and how to avoid it.      And this year,  she has created a child.   that needs to be moved?   

so many things like this and time goes like a blink of the eye.   This circle of seasons i want to be OF.    Of this Place.   I think those words…what does it mean?,   OF this Place?   thinking………..

 

 

i wanted to put the word here.   am not prepared to write about it.  just wanted it here.    Looking it up,  as in google,  it says:  connected with God (or the gods) or dedicated to a religious purpose and so deserving veneration.    So…what if your God (or gods)   is just Life.   Life as in what is alive.   All of it.    All that is alive.   Has ever been alive from the "beginning",   continues to be alive,  day unto day.  Ever alive.  Ever changing.  Ever Ever.   Ever Everything.

i told Emrie about the squirrels and she asked to use my Micron Pen,   eeee….i told her how it is with those pens,  showed her the small small thing that is at its tip….how it can be blunted so easily   she listened and just waited,  

so ok. i said  …and she drew.    

to hear a story or    to have a thought     and      want to make a Picture.    This is sacred.    Emrie's squirrel.

the act of making a picture,  drawing,   is sacred.

Western Gray Squirrel   Sciurus griseus        Emrie Grace Jimenez    Sierra  Nevada Foothills    November 2022

i had drawn this out of no where early,  for nothing.    the smear…a spatter of barbque sauce  on an otherwise "good" page…so i thought  how could it be beauty Full….asked the pencil

 

 

was standing at the sink  looking out that little window which is not my usual   Looking Out window.   it looks into the old Doe Forest.    Movement in the distancc,  trees,   the squirrel.    Not where i am used to seeing himThem.   But there….branch to branch and suddenly,   there were

TWO

there were two of Them  running  spinning  flinging  all within the space of that small window screen that was like an old time TV   They chased and spun and just   PLAYED.    PLAYED.   with each other.   there was such Joy,  such Wild Abandon  all for no reason other than what it was….those moments,  of sharing the Joy of EachOther in the tree branches .   Arboreal Squirrels.  TWO of them.