windthread

 

this is  the retaining wall at Campsite A.  Alyssia's place.   Last year,  they hired Nathan to prepare this flat place that would receive her modular home.   Had a lot of conversation about it.  Exchange.  But every time Nathan was here on his own,  different things would happen.  They ended up calling him Uncle Nathan because he had his own imagination about this Place and couldn't help but create things….one of which was cutting too deep into the Hill,  requiring Jenny and Alyssia to build this retaining wall.  Which took forever and was extremely labor intensive for them.

But it's done.  And it's there.  and today,  it's a really Grand raised bed.  Between 50 and 60 feet long,  3 ft wide in the bed, but there is all that is behind the wall too.  Today we think of corn there.  

right now,  except for the two small spaces that the kids planted,  it's full to the brim with whatever seeds flew there and secured themselves.  Weeds.  Wildflowers….some of which Alyssia and  i are  positive are edible and nutritious food plants. Medicinal plants.

Like with everything else,  there is a Restlessness….an urge to Get On With It….time goes.  But there are the extenuating circumstances that arise.  Puppy's surgery,  the resultant incarceration in the travel trailer,  and RAIN…24/7.  Again.  Way beyond "normal".

and so it goes.  Watching.  Looking for ways to Understand.  Looking for ways to Be within it all.

Alyssia and Emrie and Julian arrived this morning at 7:30.  The appointment was for 8 oclock.    

Every morning since the beginning,  Puppy has been waiting for the sound  of Alyssia's car,  crunching up the gravel drive,  getting out,  going to the horse trailer and putting food in her bowl, tinkle tinkle.  Yesterday,  late in the afternoon,  early eve,  there was a youwling sound….we heard it and stared,  wide eyed,  the sound of a cat in heat…..calling.  And this morning,  when Alyssia's car crunched up the gravel drive,  an hour earlier than usual,  to accomodate the 8 am appointment,  

no Puppy.

We all walked the 6 acres,  calling.  Puppy!  Puppy!  we even tried kitty kitty,  just in case,  but no.  Nada.  No Puppy.  

Time ticked on and we made the call to the Spay and Neuter Clinic….couldn't find the cat.   They said ok,  another time  and we gave up calling,  imagining some things  quietly to our own selves…about her absence..like hawks maybe,  or an owl or just that it was true,  that sound had meant she was out….being a hussy….prowling.  Somewhere around 9:30,  there she was…like always but an hour late and they said bring her in.

The cat carrier that brought Tazmeena from New Mex to here is on the back bedroom bed.  Puppy inside.    They sent her home with medicine for 3 days,  and Elizbethan Collar.  Post OP instructions.  

She is still in there.  Still. Puppy,  the Fearless Arborial DogCat.  Still.  Eyes glassy,  ears out to the side, drooping.

The woman had said  "What is her name?"  Alyssia said   "Puppy Merced Hill"  and Julian said that she had a second middle name of Pinecone.   So,  Puppy Merced Pinecone Hill".   The woman was bland and said,  Puppy.   Puppy Ortiz.  Alyssia said, no,  Puppy Merced Hill.  Julian said  Pinecone.  Her papers and medicines come back as Puppy Ortiz.

It takes so little,  really,  to give Life to things.  Puppy was ready to meet her fate.  Totally ready and hot and yowling.  And we interceded.  We took her and took her innate ability to be her total Cat ness.  There were times when we talked about maybe letting her have one batch of kittens,  maybe that one of them might be like her,  an Arborial DogCat,  but us,  being who and what we are,  we took her to have all her female parts cut out of her body.

 

 

i wrote a LOOONG post about this pic.  It didn't take.  Disappeared,  nada,  gone.  Maybe i'll try again.  or Not.

But what is important to note,  that this MOON, last night and in the few nights before, …..Fixed something.  I am Here now.  Here.    I am grounded.  so,  OK.  Here we go.

some days ago,  Jude,  Jude Hill Spirit Cloth said…." Don't neglect selves, for too long,  you might forget who you are"

working with what is at hand….from Deb Lacativa,  except for the Toad Cloth,  this is of this moment….this time just before a Full Moon,  and some FULL MOON that is more than Full for me,  but had begun pulling me since two days ago already,  I wake and watch the Path through the trees, the silence of sleeping Goats,  but other Beings, so Awake,  Tay and I,  awake in the dark,  watching, listening.

Last night,  first night we could sleep with just the screen door,  how Night came Inside,  how Bless~ed a feeling that is…Night coming IN and calling us to come Out

 

Last night, a night dream.  A very large "house".  So many people,  coming and going.  The walls,  extremely tall walls were being painted by her mother and father who were in their maybe 40's.  when really,  they've been long dead.  Her "things"…that were in the corner of one very large room had been moved for this painting and she didn't know where they were.  There were many hallways leading off from the central room and they (her stuff)  were somewhere,  but there was comotion and no one caring really about anything,  just participating kind of mindlessly in the comotion,  so she kept looking,  and it turned into the same building that has been in so many recurrent dreams over the years,  that seems ok enough,  even fine,  until you go to the far edge of it to kind of a fire escape stairway and realize that it is rotting,  about to implode.  That it could happen at any moment…

and it goes on,  no need to tell the rest.  She dreams.  Then wakes.  2:30,  the appointed hour for waking.  Lying there,  looking out at those STARS.  Having become accustomed to their SIZE,  she lies there,  watching Night. 

Closing her eyes,  she travels back to where she came from.  This is for the first time since she left.  First time,  really looking at the true fact that she had gone.  That she had loaded up "her" Goats,  her dog,  her cat,  her stuff,  her Self,

and left.

she realizes how she has done this before.  The details different,  the things she "took" different,  but that she has done this before.  Made a decision to change Everything,  based on some deep and unknown "felt sense",  and without undue plan

left.

done it again.  

She rests with this thought.  She then sees herself back,  in the Place of Before.  She is in the old metal house,  its walls moving in the WIND.   Her morning chair being gone,  she stands.  Its empty.  The house is empty.  OutSide….also Empty.  the Goat fencing is gone.  The Albatros is empty.  Only the earth and it's companions, remain except for the Raft.  But she had taken things from the Raft, so it,  in it's way is also empty.

there is no describable way to tell of the feeling of this.  It simply is.  Not Good or Bad.  but is.  She sees what she left behind.  and sees that really,  it's not much.  Not much to account for so many years of living.  of doing.  of trying.  of Just going.

Not much.  and there is some kind of clarity about how it IS this way,  living,  how we just DO and TRY and Go,  every day.  And it doesn't really "amount" to all that much,  but that it's just so very OK.   It HAPPENED.  

She falls asleep and now in this day,  staring out with some kind of ennui, that has prevailed since she has been here,  she knows she is repeating.  And how will it go this time?  Her  most probably, Final time?   

 

 

 

 

 

 

What it takes.  This.  It's BIG., like really.  Like really Big.  But it will grade off the long road that is the "drive way".  Smooth the way,  that thing on the back is a box grader,  heavy, and flattens.   So,  this second year here,  after winter rain,  it works to smoothe the ruts and  gaps,  but also pulled up one of the French Drains…eeeee,  but that can be corrected,   for now,  all is flat and passable.  WHICH MEANS …..maybe….maybe this next week the Hut for Campsite B.  can be delivered.  Where i will live.  Maybe.  Gravel still needs to be delivered.  Many truck fulls.  Then moved/spread.  But it is possible.  

Communion.  I feel like we got somewhere really great and really beauty FULL in the last couple days.  We  gathered in a Circle and passed the Talking Stick.  Truths were told.  Some  of Us talked.  Some witnessed in Silence.   But we shared and honored our own Truths as best we know them in this moment.    I think we really accomplished something.  There was  no Pretending.   I am Grateful for this and so so honored by All Present Here…worded or silent.  So really glad for Us. 

Thank You. and  Big Big Love

there was a comment earlier today that the author then asked me to delete.

it was about the fact that i am uneven in  comments on other persons blogs.  Specifically, i think, that i don't always comment on hers.  I may be wrong.  

that this  was felt as some kind of exclusion.  I may be wrong.

I thought all day about it.  All day.  It was my preoccupation.  All day.   What was a response to this?,  that was honest, and true?

At first,  it would be to say I'm Sorry,  that's a knee jerk,    but that's really not it….because i read her blog,  each post.  I know her life as she presents it,   as well as i know mine.  So,  I'm Sorry doesn't apply.  so WHAT then, does?

i guess not much, really,  but that living for me takes a ton of time and energy and i also NEED and LOVE the connection that this blogsphere gives,  including her,  her pleasures and her challenges.  they are a part of my whole….  but that unless i feel some kind of STRONG PULL,  i just read.  I just read and think…she's just like me.  She's just going….with her own particulars, but she's just like me.  and in that,  there is great comfort and solace.    And at the end of any day,  when the internet connection allows a brief window for response,  i go where the pull feels greatest. Otherwise,  I assume that we all will just keep on keeping on, and in that,  there is some Faith.  FAITH.  that we all just keep on keeping on. Me,  her,  all of Us.  No exclusion.  US.  We keep on.

 

words in a while.

how to hang the Cloth?   no way.  How to "put" the Cloth?    for a few days,  as it rests,  the Cloth has been on Crow.  To show this,  photographing inside wasn't working…too  much extraneous stuff and too little Light.  Here,  on the small hill of the HILL,  Crow wears the Cloth as a cloak.  The small manzanita….what happened?….it is stunted, but blooms. and where the Wendy Wish hangs in any Wind,  any breath of the Atmosphere that prevails.  Tay carries her stick  which is her Work.  This is just above and over from where that small oblong planting place is.  Just close.   Though far apart,  things are close.

Old mother goes up the trail between the trees to campsite B where she imagines herSelf to be at some point.  Begins to work the  Earth there…a small oblong circle.  Digging,  loosening,  Removing rock and stone.  She goes slow.  The oblong space is tilted,  like everything here…a Hill…tilted….so she works to create a Even Oblong Space,  placing stones on the South side to hold Earth in place.  Make it level.   Digging,  placing, carrying.  The scent of dug earth is strong.

after some time,  Young Mother appears at the rim of the hill,  pushing the all terraine stroller,  the young female infant sitting,  watching as they go,  they make their way over obstacles and arrive because Young Mother says,  we are your pack,  your herd.

They work.  Taking rock and stone to create the retaining rim of the Oval and then plant.  Cilantro.  Arugula.  A Salad Green Mix.

Moving along because it is the only day of SUN predicted for the week,  they  go along the rim of Campsite B,  the road side, and plant SunFlowers.   Seeds.  These just in small spaces,  small,  between what has already grown there.  Who knows,  how it might go.

Eve of Equinox,  2018.

Young Mother had a dream.  

"You were gone.  Presuming dead.   and They decided that they needed to send someone to come find me because you always said that I was another you.  So it was decided that i could carry on the blog.

A famous person that no body knew was following the blog was sent inquiring about your absence.     They had decided that she could convince me to continue the blog.  This  conversation  occured as we were walking the trails  between the trees,  Here.  Her name started  with an A."

Eve of Equinox.  2018