windthread

you might have noticed that the posts are seeming to come "later" than usual,    which is not really true,  it's that i am not accomadating the time change,  i am not "springing forward".  So…no daylightsavings here.  We are running on the same time,  same time that has always been the same time on the bedroom clock which i would have to add or subtract from when i looked,  wondering if it was "time to get up" or if there was another hour,  now,  if i am "behind" an hour.  So strange.  But the computer screen up in the top right says it's 6:55.  But here,  for Us,  it's 5:55.

I cleaned for Allan today as i do every other Tuesday and he was running behind so we had the opportunity to talk and watch his peafowl….PeaMan was into his most extravagant self,  his FAN fanning and magnificant and his first hen PeaWoman was atop the chicken house,  watching but not watching.  Last time i was there there was a note saying that a dog had come and taken several of the chickens and PeaWoman and her 3 daughters had Fled.    So now today,  she came home and with her first daughter Calliope.  The other two daughters,  the youngest,  have opted to live down the road.    We discussed  all this.  It was nice.  We talked about how for me Peacocks are proof of some kind of Ultra Max Cosmic  Intelligence ….Creator….because of all that they ARE could not be for anything at all except for Display of Beauty….

and when i was done,  i went to town for the once a week thing and i kept Aware of things….my exchanges,  verbal and non verbal with others shopping,  my choice of stuff to buy or not,  how i put some stuff in my basket but then ended up putting it Back where i'd found it.   Having a Mindful check out exchange with the young man at the cash register….not just glib,  but WITH him  and on the way out i saw the Post Office Guy going in and we waved recognition and i thought about how i kind of have a crush on him….not sure i could tell you why,  but i do….and i am so glad that i am of a certain age where it is not possible…he is young…but it's nice and

as i was driving home there was an enormous sense of LOVE for this place i live,  how Plain it is and Small and really Safe and Kind in its own way,  such a soft and grateful feeling  that was juxtaposed to the Violence on the Google News this morning in Belgium where Maria lives…i know it's a small country,  so tho she doesn't live where the Violence took place,  it is close to her garden.

I thought the afternoon would just drift away,  but i was finding self looking at that face

and thinking of going forward with it as a Cloth,  probably for that Art Thing in Magdalena,  but really, NO and i can't.  For me,  this is Alyssia's face,  my granddaughter,  and i can't.  

 

 

so into the Prayer Basket that Patricia made,  the Walnut Dye prayer basket that has a mouth,  that breaths,  that could also be an eye

so no.

 

but then…i thought well,  see if any face will come up and 

 

but it's Young

 

and then even when i gave her Flowers,  she would not soften…her Fierceness remained

 

tried more to soften her….

No.  OK   Ok and O k.

 

so she is who she is.  and i wraped her girl child in the flowers and let her BE 

as She needs to Be.    

 

yesterday and today.   

yesterday.  50~60 people.  All good hearted,  all with so much inside them.  Some of which they voiced there,  much more of which i assume was unsaid.  Who they all are.   Are.  Are.   You could tell a lot by the food.  I keep thinking about the food.  Which was really astounding.  How people cooked and baked.  because it said PotLuck,  so they cooked and baked in each their own homes and brought it.  I want to keep looking at this.

The early part of the day was work away, being a Monday on that calendar map.  and when Home,  i was just kind of wandering.  I saw

 

how the asparagus i planted last year  has come UP.  I looked a long time at this.

 

 

 

my skin.    Skin.  my skin

 

this shell,  this Home of a Being now finding its self on a log in a desert

Lilac.  Sun behind gives my shape to Her.

 

only half opened,  but all the House Yard is fragrant

 

Home from my foray into the Larger World,  i brought water to the Raft

 

 

So…i DID go.   to the Magdalena organizational First Saturday in May meeting,  at the 101 Gallery that used to be the old feed store that still WAS a feed store till they wanted it to be a Gallery space MORE and DID it.   Potluck.  I took deviled eggs.  Because it was what i had here,  a lot of eggs from Jan the Dog Trainer's chooks.   I know that fresh eggs don't peel easily but well,  i'd had them a week already but a week is not enough.  It took  FOREVER to pick off fleck of shell by fleck of shell.  But in the end, 23 deviled eggs.  One white caved in.   Celery, onion,  dijon mustard and cayenne.  OK.  There were between 50 and 60 people there…a great turnout and the food was INCREDIBLY GOOD…a vast array of things with 3 offerings of home made breads that were FINE.   A yellow thing that none of us at my table could identify the ingredients of that was sublime.  the Mystery food.  I wish.

And good conversation with the woman of Bear Mountain Coffee House Gallery…you can google that,  there's a few pics….where the fiber arts are to be this time.  IF i can work it out,  IF i can hang cloths Inside,  IF we can work out a retail price that works for both of us,  i will do it.  If not,  probably not.  Last year (?)  i took things and Wind arrived  mid morning and i took it all down and came home.  

Equinox.  Equal this and equal that.  Today,  equal this world and equal the Other world.  OK.

and it's colder UP there in Magdalena,  the altitude changing the temps by sometimes 10 degrees so i had on my sweatshirt.  But i tried to arrange the front of it so Mo's T shirt image showed and DID get compliments….I'll wear it again if i do the Art Thing and take some little papers with her info so people can order one.

 

Just to say,  no need to think much about the post yesterday unless it has some connection to your own life.  There is a kind of peace with that memory.  It's over.  And as granddaughter and i have thought,  it will never happen again.  In Our lives.  But well,  just to say,  it is common.  And not how i'd thought,  just among Some Kinds of People,  but just common.  

Tonglen.

 

yesterday…..

Here it goes again.  Magdalena never gives up.   Every year,  Great Ideas,  Great Hopes.  So here we go again.  But with one big difference

 

i went to the mail box down at the end of the road and…..

MY DRESS UP SHIRT HAD ARRIVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  double click me.  I am NOT the queen of selfies….how do they DO it,  the young ones?   It took me forever to move the table out of the way,  set the mirrow,  chase Tay away,  get one where the shirt is not obscured and on and on but here i AM in THE CROW shirt which is Beyond Grand and i will feel That Grand wearing it tomorrow when i take my contribution of deviled eggs to the potluck.

 

and looking…how it might go

 

What do you do when you wake around 4 in the morning with some

Deep Concerns

I looked the word up to be sure it's the one i want…and definition b. according to Webster says:  an uneasy state of blended interest, uncertainty and apprehension.   Yes.  Yes.  This is right.  Not worries,  because they are frivolous,  not Fears because that's not the extent,  but Concerns.  Deep Concerns.    Waking wide awake with Deep Concerns.  So…what was there to do?  Get up.  Make red chile.  Fry some potatoes and spoon on a liberal amount.  Eat it.  

 

it's a simple thing,  red chile,  as far as ingredients.  But there are some particulars that must be followed closely.  I learned from that person i was married to that i call the maniac but that Yvette doesn't want me to call him that,  him.  The last of the particulars is to simmer until a "skin" forms on the top.  And Look….Meera….the skin formed a Blossom

and you are still there with your Concerns,  so you just sit there in the Morning Chair in the still dark and eat More red chile by the spoonful till the SUN rises,  till Day.

 

Your dog is thinking it is time for her food.  She is a little anxious because it's earlier than normal,  so the anxiousness makes her Yawn

 

 

and then it's Light.  Morning is underway.  and in an email with Michelle about the 60's and 70's and Ram Dass  and trusting,  she sends me this,  from a friend of hers who read it in a NOVEL she got at a library sale:

"Memory is a willful dog.  It won't be summoned or dismissed but it cannot survive without you.  It can sustain you or feed you.  It visits when it is hungry,  not when you are.  It has a schedule all its own that you can never know,  it can capture you, corner you or liberate you.  It can leave you howling and it can make you smile….The trick is not to hate yourself…If you can manage not to hate yourself,  then it won't hurt to remember almost anything;  your childhood,  your parents,  what you've done or what's been done to you…."

I sat.  Reading and re reading.  

I have never hated myself.  so that word doesn't work for me here,  but all the rest DOES.  So i think…what word or words would i replace for hate myself that could make these words mine?  Because Michelle's friend cannot remember anything more about the book and this is all we have,  Michelle's friend, Michelle,  Me and now 

you

so…what do i insert here?   The trick is not to………………………………If you can manage not to………………………………………….then it won't hurt to remember almost anything;  your childhood,  your parents,  what you've done or what's been done to you

 

 

 

 

 

since all the baskets were down,  yesterday i took the curtains down and hand washed them in the kitchen sink,  hung them out to dry on the clothesline.   This morning i brought them in and 

stitched

what i hadn't before.  Two hems.  One curtain with the "hanging loops" just pinned.  Now they are sewn.  Proper.  They smell like Tide,  not dust.  And we might be reminded that Polvadera, where i live,  in Spanish, means Nothing But Dust.    

So here we have it.  Clean Curtains.  the shelf vacuumed.   For this single moment,  no dust.

 

it was tempting 

to leave it like that

but then,  what to do with the baskets?,  the cloth?   so…no…it's how it IS.  Baskets of Cloth.  OK.

 

and then…Something was Born.   

 

and SomeThing was born.   secondhandsheets.blogspot.com   Joy in Arizona.  Her first working post and i am really feeling so Good about this….about being there,  for this very first post….remembering when in the middle of the night i did that and Jude caught me…..

go tell her Hello.  I can feel it in my bones…it's going to be really Something.   in a way that will be a surprise….not just Cloth…..She's a StoryTeller.

 

and i FOUND MY LENS CAP FOR THE CAMERA  which has been an ISSUE for me for days now.  I was SURE  it would be in one of those baskets but it wasn't and today,  when reordering the stuff to take to the Thrift Shop on top of Tay's crate….Ta Da!!!!!!!  under the National Geographics…………..

 

and here,  about Blooming,  the Beauty of Blooming under a Sky Blue Sky in Dirt

 

Just mid morning.  Multiply this X 3.   

I have gone through all the baskets except for the 3 very small scrap baskets.  I might leave them for a while.  This was enough.   The complexity of the ordering was so much that i can't even have the what it takes to tell you in this moment.  It makes a very odd kind of sense,  hard to describe.

My scrap family.

and in the bedroom,  on the utility shelves is More.  But not in the form of scraps,  rather pieces of whole recycle clothing.  Shirts,  skirts,  etc.  Who knows when i might get to that.  Maybe never.   It's my bedroom,  so…no one needs to know.  

But it was like being hypnotized,  the feeling of picking up each scrap,  looking and feeling and deciding.  A separate reality.  Cloth world.  

And the most interesting thing was that i KNEW them.  I was not surprised by any so small piece.  I remembered them even if i hadn't seen them in a few years…i knew/know them.  

So tomorrow i'll vacuum the shelves and the toy box where the baskets live and maybe even wash those curtains on that side of the ROOM,  hang them out to dry,  put them back and then put back the baskets.  All newly ordered and quietly talking to themselves.  Hmmm.  How Amazing it is.

how the just going threads so far back and continues with small moments of arriving and then just going more

moving the hose around the Young Cottonwood to place it in the tree well of the Chatalpa.  Coming back

 

Something said….LOOK….

 

What IS this?????   For a few years now,  probably 3,  it's been just a single twig of a Thing,  growing seemingly out of the bottom of the Cottonwood,  as a sucker would except Cottonwoods do not produce suckers.  I've taken note of it but just left it alone,  thinking it would be a Nothing of SomeSort.  Then this spring,  it leafed and i saw that it had grown a lot since i last paid much attention to it and this morning….

a BLOOM!

I have NO idea what it might be.  It's possible that it was something that came in the pot with the Cottonwood from Mike and Thelma's Native Plant Nursery.  Mike gave me this Cottonwood because he didn't want to bother with it…it was spindly.  So it could be that but i really think it's a Volunteer of some kind….from a bird….and it is very Touching to me,  speaking to  the fact that if you stay some Place for a long time,  it might shape itself,  the Place.  It might be slow.  But it might shape itself.  I have gone back,  over and over today to just stand there and look.  How amazing.  How Loving a Gift it is.  I filled a glass from the house and took it out to give it water.  From my glass.  In thanks.

and then….while giving water to the other Plant People,  the desert trees and bushes,  i sat a while,  looking at the Raft,  thinking how it will need to move if the kids come.   and almost forgotten because of it's twisted shape.  all tangled in the "masts '" of the Raft, almost invisible,

When did i put this there?  Not last year,  maybe the year before?  and probably Equinox

How faded

 

 

 

How Beauty Full…cloth,  stitch,  ink

 

Tay and i