windthread

so today was everyother week work away day,  which i did,  then on into town for the once a week in town day.  Groceries and where i had three very fine conversations with people i'd never seen before.   I wore my Obama Tshirt from those years that seem so long ago.   Then stopped at Jan the Dog trainers to pick up eggs.  I want to make a pound cake.  and the great giant huge happiness……..her young doe Spice is

………………………………………………bagging up!!!!…………………………………………………………..*

YAY and oh just so much Hooray because it means that my beloved Sunny Ray DID THE THING!!!!!!!

oh just Joy and Happiness.  She,  Jan,  is still trying to dry her other Saneen/Nigerian cross off so he can breed her…which means he will have a Place for a few months still.  Have Work.  Be of good Use.  Be  all that he can be.  O,  my love, Sunny Ray…….

after that maybe the woman up in Magdalena will still need a Buck there.  But that's far away and  we will just stay happy for today.  Happy for Today.  Enough and Gratitude.  

also got to sit with two of her new pigs,  3 new ones, really,  but one young female is out in pasture with the original two.  This gilt she keep in one of the milking jugs with the really LITTLE boar boy.  The person she got the original two from called her,  needing to reduce his herd*, family emergency thing,  so she took 3 more.  The original two will be meat in the fall.  But these three,  if she can do it, will be kept as breeding stock.  The little one is the size of a small cat.  The feel of him was WonderFull.

*bagging up….sometime near kidding the udder begins to plump up.   different for each doe.  Could be soon,  could be a while.  But she IS bagging up.  

**i forget what you call a flock/herd of pigs…drove?maybe?  a drove?   but not a herd.

 

need to finish this.  Cannot decide on how many strings and where.  Need to decide.  Need to finish.

 

AND ADDENDUM !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the

crickets.

the crickets just now began their song.  8:01 pm  April 5,  2016

crickets Sing.

 

 

 

as it is,  a Work Away.  

Home.  it's hot.  i'd taken off my socks at work.  Home,  more hot.  April, New Mexico.  Cold in the morning you build a fire.   Later in the day it is 80 something degrees so you end up stitching in the raw.  Socks off at work this morning,  levis off for nap,  shirt off for kantha.  Stitching in the raw.

 

late afternoon,  how they lined themselves along the shadow of the trunk of the dead Russian Olive.  Shade is shade.  Everyone says oh,  i'll help you cut it down.  They use it.  Birds use it a lot.

 

early eve Feed,  once again Snowbunny,  the old Gramz was in one of the feed bowls.  So i get the camera and go out…this is her just to the left of my foot,   they all come running thinking the camera is something interesting to eat maybe.  So, no pic of her in the bowl.

 

these are the usual kinds of pics of Goats.  But look at the beauty full marks their hooves make in the sand

 

 

 

Arctica,  the only doe with natural horns

 

and just more kantha.  Stitched in the "raw".   Slow,  Slow,  slow.  Back/forth,  back/forth

but the FEEEL of the Cloth changes,  strengthens,  becomes.

i first thought to do this kantha "frame" maybe 2 days ago,  but then wasn't sure it would work because it's such a small space.  But it does.  and i'm Happy it does.  it adds some weight to the edges that works with the strong image inside.  I was thinking,  i should remember this.  Because it's much easier to do the stitching when the ground cloth is still empty.  Cumbersome, now with  the figure in place.  But as it is for me,  i wouldn't have known ahead of that moment when i thought of it two days ago.  The Cloths,  always just Going as they go….of their own accord.  no forethought on my part

but it's Working now and feels really good in hand  even tho the second ground is not yet attached which turned out to be a good thing because i can kantha "in" and under it a few stitches.

This,  i can remember.  That second ground cloth was a very subtley but Beauty Fully marked cloth.  If i can remember to think things through some….i might not have used it because it is now pretty much obscured by the figure.  In a way,  it is wasted.  Something more plain would have worked just as well other than i know it's there,  but no one else will imagine it.  So,  i can try to remember that.

The thing i WILL remember,  that is imbeded in my mind is that this new Epson XP 320 printer is a piece of junk.  I've had it since last October.  It came with ink.  I've replaced all the cartridges,  maybe a month ago and have not used it much.  Today it tells me that Magenta is "LOW".  Ok,  i thank it,  but even tho Magenta is only "low",  still the image prints out with vertical lines through the image.

DO NOT BUY AN ePSON XP 320 printer.  They use ink like air.  I had the old HP for maybe 15 years until it collapsed.  It was a much better printer.

Even with the bad thoughts about the printer,  it was and still is a very gentle day.

 

This morning there was this from Marti

 

she'd been Out communing with her dye pot and not being satisfied,  she re~bundled and re~clamped the bottom and sent this pic among others.  I always love to see what she's doing but for some reason,  this photograph taken from the monitor screen just made me crazy.  I love it's graininess,  the forms of the fence,  line, clothespins, cloth and clamps.  I just LOVE this photograph.  I never understand why,  when we,  the "we"  have something extraordinary,  we are not inclined to offer it UP to Others who don't have the extraordinary….like in if she made Cards with this image,  i would buy a Ton of them,  send them everyday to everyone with total Joy,  just so BEAUTY FULL and ENERGETIC and FINE to me

 

and then,  last Monday,  when i was going to leave after taking a pizza and sharing it with Audrie in town,  the Honda car wouldn't start.  No forewarning.  Just dead as a doornail.  So we stood and looked with the hood up.  Nothing seemed loose.  and after standing in silence for a while,  she said that her next door neighbor was always under the hood of his car,  she didn't know him tho,  so i walked over and knocked, explained and he came and took off the clamps on the battery terminals and cleaned them and noted that the Neg charge clamp was just so corroded that it couldn't be tightened and he worked some at it.  We finally jumped the car with Audrie's and i made a bee line for Home.

There it sat while i regrouped in my mind.  OK.  Yesterday (regrouping takes some time sometimes) i hooked up the battery charger.  Let it run all afternoon.

 

let it run on fast charge 40 amp continuous.  All afternoon.  at the end of which time when i disconnected and turned the key….Nada.  not even a click.  Dead.  So this mid morning,  i combed my hair and re-connected to the 200 amp Engine Start which took a couple tries but YES and i unplugged the charger, got behind the wheel and made a return bee line to the auto parts store,  careful to slide through stop signs and judge traffic lights,  taking no chances.  New battery and YES!!!!!  Perfect!  This may seem very mundane,  but for me,  is an accomplishment.  And i realized that this old Honda is 30 years old this year when i had to give the year make and model.    Hmmm.   But i was Home and all was well and i took my 20 min nap cause that's how it's going these days.  20 min mid day nap, followed by 40 min at least Sitting before on with a day….

The nap.  Always Deep Sleep.

And i awoke.  Lying there on the futon,  on my back,  different from my night sleep,  on my back so i don't sleep too long 

 

i woke.   lying there…just looking….well,  not even looking,  just eyes open,  waking,  "re~entering"  and just saw through the house.   The door is open,  day comes In,  Sun is warm,  sound of birds otherwise Stillness.

I am awash…No…too strong a word,  no,  it was so so soft,  the feeling,  so light,  yes ,  light,  a feeling of great well~being not because of anything at all,  just this very light soft flow of the Goodness of Everything.  I felt so happy to live here,  just Happy for No Reason.

I felt something then

 

in my hair.  Maybe it's my Lucky Twig.   It's now on the altar.

 

to avoid posting about something that MIGHT happen,  that i HOPE might happen,  that i WANt to happen.  Instead,  report on the days events, occurances…WHEN they are happening or Have happened.

There is a better way to say this,  but oh well….

For example.  Last eve at Feed Time,  i was late,  i was SHOCKED.  There was little Jack Flash…the whole side of his face,  down his nose and onto his throat,  covered with Red Red RED congealing BLOOD.

Dog Trainer Jan had banded his horn buds.  It's one of a few ways to deal with horns.  She'd never done it this way before.  It was partially successful.  One of his horn tips Did wither and fall off about a month ago,  but still leaving about an inch of vital stump.  The second horn,  the band had scooted upward and only the top half of the horn was withering….but it seemed that it might be ok enough.  A Wait and See.  The only other thing to do would be to totally re-band both,  close to the skull and by this age,  it would take much longer and the possibility of success diminished.

Goats,  male and female all have horns.  Goats,  male and female all have scent glands at the base of their horns or where their horns might have been.  They are forever rubbing their heads on Things, Each Other,  and here, ME.  To mark.  To Claim.  To Say….I am Me.  

Something happened for Jack Flash.  It was close to dark and he wouldn't let me near him.  Nothing to do but wait.

So i came in.  wrote the post and following my own Rule,  didn't talk about it.  He would either be Dead in the morning,  all weakened so i could help him, maybe,  or just Fine ish.  I woke often in the night.

This morning i dreaded going out.  But as luck would have it,  he was Fine ish and somehow had even rubbed off all that Blood.

REPRIEVE

 

 

it's the one on the left in the pic,  his right

 

him and his Old Companion Gideon…double click….doin what they do

 

Old Man Gideon

 

double click all of these

 

 

 

how we keep Good Company if we are a Goat

 

 

the walnut cloth that was left.  Forgotten.  to rot

 

 

 

Jaxson.  I still call him Fate.  We followed our most deep instinct.  Here he IS.   Just Going.

it's not quite 7pm and i've built a fire.  THEY say,  10% chance of snow showers.  OK.

 

early morning Chair Love

 

was about to go get the tall green ladder to try to catch a pic of the first tassels on the Young Cottonwood.  But i suddenly remembered the T.  T.  Telephoto.  and YES!!!!!  Telephoto.  and what Else might it work for?????

 

YES!!!!!  Goats at a distance….!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Celia

 

Ginger (Snap)

This is GREAT to find out.  It's almost impossible to take a pic of a Goat when you are anywhere near them.  they are photophobic.  But this way…ahhhh and eeeeeee,  they never guess.

 

am loving this dimensional quality….stitching as i go,  moving the cloth as i stitch,  letting it become as it Will.  Letting cloth be just what it IS,  in it's Wild state….yes.  Love this.

 

by the end of this day

 

 

 

 

so the Belov~ed Travis came and everything seemed good.  New virus defense was added.  All seemed well and i posted that quick post.   Waking yesterday morning,  all full of anticipation,  only to find a box that said there was no Internet connection.  Whaa.  so adrift again but this morning,  before he went to work,  he came again and here i am.  Here i am.   i like writing that.  Here i am.

It was 5 days.  I let my mind wander,  wander and wander.  In between,  i Followed the Breath.  Inhaling through the opening in the top of my skull,  the breath moving down,  filling my whole body and then being exhaled through the opening in the Heart Space.

Wander, Wander.  Breathe Breathe.  wander more.  Breathe more.   

Drifting.

I began to stitch the  Stand and Face What You Know.  But mostly i drifted.  I looked through all the books and spent some time with these

 

it was Comforting,  going back to the Dalai Lama's words….i could hear his voice speaking them

i made a pile of books to go to the Library Book Sale and at first put this…

 

Wendy Jehanara Tremayne and her partner Mikey Sklar moved from a high powered life in NYC to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico in 2006.  This book documents the beginning of their lives there living in a world of salvage.  T or C is a little over an hour from here down I-25.  It's eccentric.  Maybe i should do a field trip there for Julie.  Maybe i could stand at Wendy's gate.  Maybe she would come to her gate.  I am keeping the book for a while yet at least.  her blog is  thegoodlifelab.com

In the 5 days of no connection, two things stand out from the Drift.

One being that without word from "outside",  ie the Google News,  I would NEVER imagine the world to be as it seems to be.  Here,  just Wind.  Sun.  the Sky.  Rhythm of Goats, dog, cat.  Rhythm of Spring  emerging everywhere.  Peace.

 

 

and Two,  that i am Full of Gratitude to YOU.  Deep gratitude and love.  This blog is.  This blog connects me in a connectionlessness,  here,  in this very oh so quiet Place.  How it is a Place to tell this and also a Place where there are others who i come to know so well and who open their own lives and Places of Being….What they see,  what they do.   How they Feel.

I have deep love for that.

and then on Facebook…where i go to see what the "kids" are doing…

 

the grandson's boy, Fate.   Oh i look.  Fate.  How it goes for him in California.

 

 

 

 

 

here i am.

i imagined i might be "lost" forever.  so i spent these couple/few days as if it were true.

but i am not.  I am here.  it will take tonight and into the morning to realize the whole of it.

 

and really,  you were spared pic pic pic pic pic on and on of the changes.  This is where we've Got to

Life is strange and Wonder full and beyond Interesting

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

May 20 Brain Pickings,  Maria Popova

"In my own reflections on hope, cynicism and the stories we tell ourselves,  I have considered the necessity of these two poles working in concert.  Indeed, the stories we tell ourselves about these poles matter.  The stories we tell about our public past shape how we interpret and respond to and show up for the present.  The stories we tell ourselves about our private pasts shape how we come to see our personhood and who we ultimately become.  The thin line between agency in victimhood is drawn in how we tell those stories.

The language in which we tell ourselves these stories matters tremendously, too,  and no writer has weighed the complexity of sustaining hope in our times of readily available despair more thoughtfully and beautifully, not with greater nuance than Rebecca Solnit in 

Hope in the Dark:   Untold Histories,  Wild Possibilities"

 

 

to wake,  Every Day,  and dress in the Things of this Earth,  to wear the earth on our bodies and show up and tell out stories