windthread

it's 5 oclock and this day has pretty much finished.  One of the Last Things for these days now is to tack down that wool blanket over the door to the Way Back.  I use clear push pins and this small female hammer that be longed to my grandfather.  I love this hammer.  

the Most Important, though are the two No Freeze Water Outlets.  There is one in front and one in back.   These are for watering the GOATS.  Critical.   Every day now,  in which ever part of the day is warmest and allows for flow through the hoses,  the Goats water bowls must be filled.  Filled enough to last until the following day when it is warm enough.  This varies.  But what Does Not Vary is to disconnect the hoses.    So one of the last things,  late afternoon, early evening,  disconnect.  I CANNOT FORGET.  ok.

and then the first thing,  the tacking in place that wool blanket.  Smushing up the one on the floor that keeps the bottom crack of the door covered.  Ok.   and then  checking for sure enough wood is in for Three Days.  It's important to establish this Habit.  3 days.  always.  and Last,  in an hour or so maybe 2,  turn on the water taps in the house.  The ones in the bathtub in general.  The ones in the kitchen sink too if it's going to be really cold…just let them drip.  It takes time to adjust.  Not flow, but drip.  Drip  is enough.

And then,  that last conversation of the day with the Goats.  All the things about yes, it's cold but i love you and will be here in the Morning.

So, these are the Usual Things.  and i think that i am just back to the Usual Things now for a while.  All the new and different things are Over.  Today,  the Vet came.  For Tays shots.  I gave up  thinking i could get her to ride to his place in town and get out,  on a leash,  like a "normal" dog and go in to his waiting room and sit nicely.  NOT.  We aren't there yet.  She barely will get into the truck.  Her shots were due in August.  One Year.  So,  he made a Ranch Visit,  i smile…and well….it got done.  Back her up against the truck tire.  Reach around her and hug her close,  keep a good grip on her collar.  He will come from behind.  DONE.   the Vet:  " Can you let me see her teeth?"  me: "Yes!,  beautiful teeth and gums"  and Ok.  and  i say i needed the shots because of all the Scat on the ditch banks and also that i want to take her to San Lorenzo Canyon and let her run.  He looks in his quiet way and says "she might never come back, you know.  She's Catahoula."  

YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  she's Catahoula.  Yes.  I knew it!!!  

For those of you who live Elsewhere than a desert…Go Look at Lynn's blog  woodridgehomestead.com   of the Shanendoah Valley of Virginia,  her   11-16 post   about Sensible, Normal, Quiet, Simple and a short UTube of Helen Nearing "Living/Conscious Dying

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And the Keystone XL came up ONE VOTE SHORT.  ONE VOTE SHORT.  THANK YOUR PEOPLE WHO VOTED AGAINST!  Write to them   and THANK THEM for voting AGAINST

 

 

 

 

Work away.   Clear the space for Alfalfa delivery.  Split some more wood bring in.  Change Goat water.  Go bring home Grass Hay.  

i tried to take a pic of the door to the Way Back.  This is what i got.  so,  OK.  Today.

 

 

SOME LATER…. i made my bed.  

had done laundry while at Work.  They don't mind.  Before going for the Grass Hay i had hung it on the clothes line.   It is fragrant.  dry.  clean.  crisp.   and i think…What More,  could i want?

At first thought,  it was Marginal Lives.  But then, soon after i thought through those two words,  I thought,  No.  NOT marginal lives,  rather,  Lives lived in the Margin.  That's closer.  Not IT yet, but closer.

I woke this morning in what felt like an Altered State somehow.  It was 4 something,  but there was a strong sense of the Outside, inside and as it became light it began to actually Rain.    Storm Cells.  This added to the sense of disorientation.  But it wasn't IT.   IT was the trip yesterday.  IT was really, meeting Cindy in her home territory,  as not Cindy the Greatest and Best Nurse,  but Cindy, the Woman.  Her home.   Her Place on this planet.  Cindy is a StoryTeller and so i know a lot of her life.  Before she came here from her birthplace of Nashville, Tennessee,  and then when she came to N. Mex.    But seeing her Home….where she has lit for the last years was ,  well,  was uhhhh,  more than i would have imagined.  Her home had originally been a workshop.  The amount of physical and creative labor involved in the place i visited yesterday is really monumental.   inside and All Around.   Things she has done HERSELF.  Taught herSelf to do.  Talk about the Queen of  Just Going…..   

So to look.  To tour around with her looking at this and that,  listening to her,  set the scene in my mind.  Then we are at the Storage Unit and Hilda comes.   Hilda is a soft and gentle woman.  I think young.  And how it was.  Short on time,  but Strong of Spirit.  So much was seeded in me.  And then that physical Rush of the need to Go Home.   That Drive.  Fast and Hard.  Wanting to be Home and then to listen as the Goats began to call at first hesitantly because they really couldn't identify the sound of the truck outside the gate…and Tay who had waited in that crate those hours,  spending at least 20 minutes smelling me all over before even going outside…Where had i BEEN?????,  and with WHO?  

And some of it is just that Drive.  That drive through OPEN EXPANSE where there is almost no human mark.   It's kind of disorienting,  but really, REorienting to something like an inner compass

that truck

Today it was thread beads that Jude taught me.  Many.  More to come.

POPULATION:  2000 census for Mountainair  1,116

                                                                     Willard                240

                                  2013 census           Corona                169

                                                                      Socorro           8, 911

 

 

 

 

i never guessed it would be this bad,  but i knew it would be "bad".  Where i am good at taking pics is in singular quiet places.   Travel photos have never worked out for me.  So in a way this is as i kind of guessed,  but also, worse.

 

xing the Rio Grande which is just a small plain river

 

 

these places in the distance,  Homes.  Can you imagine living there?

trees appear when the elevation changes

that's an arroyo that at times would flow the same as the Rio Grande.  Old Cowboy's dash alligator.

when i used to pass this way more frequently,  i often looked at this place.  Thinking i could live here.  I could do just fine.   I wonder who did?  What was their Life like?  What did they do in their days?

the entrance to Abo.  People lived here.  Entire lives.  Start to finish.

far in the distance a perfect Mesa.  

and so it goes,  Hwy 60.  for some time more and then suddenly we round a curve and are in Mountainair.   The downtown some few blocks of Commerce.  The outlying acres,  homes here and there.  Turn right at the flashing light and go down turn left and then left again near the rodeo fair grounds and to the end of the road and i got to Cindy's home.   I took no more pics.  as in pics of her home, her.  It always feels to me that it is invasive,  that they and their Spaces are so personal such an intimate experience that i just can't.  I didn't ask her so i don't know how she would have felt,  but i just didn't.  I'd planned on stopping here and there on the way home for some pics but we worked the entire time i was there and i left later than i'd planned and i had a longing PULL for the Goats and Tay who i ended up leaving in her crate.  I just wanted to Haul Ass.  and i did.  Once out of Mountainair the speed limit is 55 and then 60 and i drove it at 80.  

so i'll be thinking of this day for a while.  NEXT time, Julie,  i'll take pics of Mountainair which is a very eccentric community,  so very much N. Mex with the Do it how you Do it thing.

And then…last but not least,  early this morning i got an Email fro  HILDA.  You might remember that Hilda identified the Lubber…the giant grasshopper thing?   and also more recently reminded me that it wasn't Lavender growing but Russian Sage?????  Well….Hilda reads along here and when she read i would be in Mountainair,  she emailed saying that she lives so close by in Willard….SO  she met us at the Storage Unit and tho it was so short,  we MET!   and she brought me two books,  one entitiled  "Never Kiss a Goat on the Lips"…..and now there is a Bright Star over Willard New Mexico where i know Hilda…in person…. IN person.

It was a really fine and fine and fine day.

 

it arrived.  Actually, there are two of them.  This one's mine.  A Real Rolodex.  I've never had one before,  except the one that's in my mind.  But never in this way, sitting on the table.    It has 500 little "pages".  A lot.   I have referred here to things being saved in the Rolodex of my mind….different than Remembering,  or Knowing.  Things on that Mind Rolodex are often very vague.  A single word,  an image that is blurry with only the fragment of a seed of importance.  But my granddaughter and i make reference to that Rolodex in my Mind a lot.   It often is how our conversations go,  just this free flow of free association and often i hear myself exclaiming, "Wait, Wait!  There's someting in the Rolodex about that"….sometimes i can come up with it, sometimes not in the moment,  but days later it will appear in consciousness of its own accord.    This happened the other day and when i hung up the phone i googled Rolodex and before i knew it i'd ordered 2.  One for her for a Solstice gift.  She's only 25 years,  so i know she will have her 500 little pages FULL.   But now, i look at it,  the one that's mine.  How will i use it?  What will i write there?  It's exciting.

Part of the day was spent with more and more roots.  No point in showing them here.   Part of the day getting everything in place so i can leave early in the morning.  Which included going to the Old Cowboy's and getting the big truck  (leaving Sunny the Toyota at his house).  Julie…a Field Trip.  We,  meaning me and All of Us are going to Nurse Cindy's house in Mountainair.   I'm going to help her haul some stuff out of her Storage Unit to the dump.  Stuff too big for her van like vehicle.  I also will haul home some cattle panels she has from the days when she too had goats.  Some lumber that she doesn't want.  Since she's not working right now,  she's letting the storage unit go.  And so.  Mountainair is an odd little town.  I'll take the camera.   

LATER

So.  An example.  I saw something, i don't know where about Jane Goodall and letting a chimpanzee free.  He was uncertain.  There was her in the pic, two others, no three it doesn't matter but he climbed on his crate for a moment and then came down and came to Her and they

hugged

long and soft.  So lightly, the hug.  long and soft.  Long.  and then he turned and went Off…as they stayed.

so it's this kind of stuff.  Nothing i need to know anymore about.  No details necessary.  The images are so much imprinted in my head.  Just the reference to it in the Rolodex is enough,  for when i need it.  When it has something to do with something.

 

 

 

 

 

 

first morning with Sorels

still life  cricket in blue bathroom sink

i take this postcard of the painting of Noelle,  The Goat Lady,  from here to there and back  as i move around the house.  She is here in her Hay Barn.  I think of her,  tending her Goats into her 90's. , moving through her day,  her sweater closed with a safety pin.  She and her Goats lived in Massachusetts.  I am sure it was Cold there.  

just more roots.  this taken as Cloth was flat, lying on the table.  Maybe allows the roots to be more visible?   Roots are slow going.

Liz had this quote on her blog  I'mgoingtoTexas.blogspot.com.  I've thought about it all day.

"Art" is not found in our language.  But what do we call a piece of work which embodies the life of its creator?  What will it be if it has a life and a soul, while its maker sings and prays for it?  In my home we call it pottery painted with designs to tell us a story.  In my mother's house, we call it a wedding basket to hold blue corn meal for the groom's family.  In my grandma's place we call it a Kachina doll, a carved image of a life force that holds the Hopi world in place.  We make pieces of life to see, touch and feel.  Shall we call it  "Art"?  I hope not.  It may lose its soul.  Its people."

Michael Lacapa  Apache Hopi Tewa

Thinking.  Maybe i make these Cloths to "hold my world in place"?,   i think Yes.  My small bit of world that is so clearly OF a large and far reaching world that covers a planet.  But this small part that i am in partnership with.  To hold it in place, maybe.  I like this.

 

 

 

i began to write this a few minutes ago when this one single gathering of "weather" changed the temperature by about 10 degrees by obscuring the setting of SUN .  and as i was typing away, things CHANGED

Changed direction by moving South just some but still,  too late in this day for SUNWARM.  

it started this way tho.   Tay's crate where the wood box has been.  Now what?  There's really no where else for the wood box.  ok.

there was suggestion by nurse Cindy to put Tay's crate, or her House , as she likes it called,  her House,  down at the far end of the futon couch.  But that would take her out of the middle of things where she is used to being and really likes to be.  She does not make use of her crate much anymore.  Sometimes for a Time Out.   and still, up till today,  when i am gone to Work for a few hours.  But we have been changing that slowly.  She just stays out this week when i leave to do Cat Duty at Allens and things have been fine.   So i think the need of the crate is nearing it's end.  But.  She still likes it, really.  It's her Place.  so until that changes,  we moved it over.  Stuff is a little crowded,  but not as claustrophobic as i'd imagined.  I think it might be OK.

this is what 3 regularly cold days wood looks like.  It should be kept full like this,  in case of moisture,  in the form of rain or snow.   This is for now through December and January.  February brings us back to early November.  It's ok and good.  SO.

i cleaned the table.  SUN makes Tazmeena look like an ocelot.

the Ristra i bought from the Egg People's kids.  Lit by Sun.  People now often hang them as decoration here.  But the real purpose of this arrangement is that the chilis will dry and hanging like this in the kitchen can be used through the winter to season beans for sustenance.  They are just now beginning to dry.

 

 

these are almost all alike,  but just a degree different i couldn't choose.  There is a CHANCE still that there will be a full open SUNFLOWER…there is COLOUR on the petals.  There are PETALS,  clearly seen to be seperating one from the other.  Today as i took these photographs,  she (and i will reference her as she)  moved.  Not just from Wind,  but from herSelf.  She quivered.

i continue  with the roots.  Buhner tells me that the Mind ,  or ,  really the Brain of the plant is in the roots.  So as i stitched,  i tried to understand that.  That the mind of the plant is  deep in the Earth.  I went slowly and thoughtfully.  I love this Cloth very much.

 

During the last year give or take,  when moments would become Ify between Betty and I,  we would let the confusion go and sit out back on her patio and i'd read Mary Oliver to us.   This is the one i have chosen for her Memorial.  

Roses, Late Summer

What happens                                                                                                                                                                                   to the leaves after                                                                                                                                                                 they turn red and golden and fall                                                                                                                                       away?  What happens                                                                                                                                                              to the singing birds                                                                                                                                                                  when they can't sing                                                                                                                                                                  any longer?  What happens                                                                                                                                                   to their quick wings?

Do you think there is any                                                                                                                                                       personal heaven                                                                                                                                                                         for any of us?                                                                                                                                                                               Do you think anyone,

the other side of that darkness,                                                                                                                                              will call to us, meaning us?                                                                                                                                                    Beyond the trees                                                                                                                                                                        the foxes keep teaching their children                 

to live in the valley.                                                                                                                                                                   so they never seem to vanish, they are always there                                                                                                  in the blossom of light                                                                                                                                                             that stands up every morning

in the dark sky.                                                                                                                                                                              And over one more set of hills,                                                                                                                                           along the sea,                                                                                                                                                                               the last roses have opened their factories of sweetness                                                                                            and are giving it back to the world.                                                                                                                                    If I had another life                                                                                                                                                                     I would want to spend it all on some                                                                                                                                unstinting happiness.

I would be a fox, or a tree                                                                                                                                                       full of waving branches.                                                                                                                                                          I wouldn't mind being a rose                                                                                                                                                in a field full of roses.

Fear has not yet occurred to them, not ambition.                                                                                                        Reason they have not yet thought of.                                                                                                                               Neither do they ask how long they must be roses, and then what.                                                                        Or any other foolish question.

from House of Light

 

 

which kinda feels like nothing much.

Work Awa y and then made loops for the third curtain.  Just pinned on but my guess is that it's the way they will stay for this year.  And i should say…Jude reminded me,  they are only such a deep color in the early morning.  The light,  during most of the day brings this.

Read a lot of Mary Oliver,  looking for the Right One.

That's it.   

 

 

i cannot imagine wanting to iron out these wrinkles.  Just look how beauty FULL they are.   And i should say again that the tea that gives such deep and rich colour is Taylors of Harrogate Scottish Breakfast Tea.   Different teas give different color.  THIS tea,  not only is my morning tea but eeeee the color it gives cotton.

Then off to work away day coming home Determined.  Before real Cold sets in.

i DID it.  the two missing window panes.  IN.   This,  all smudged but IN.  Will deal with smudge later.   A great day for it because Snowbunny, Celia and Caroline are deep into Heat and so all does are spending their day in the middle pen, closest to the bucks.  Which meant that i could climb on the ladder without concern that they would push it and me over.  Quietly i worked.  Chipping and scraping out all the old caulk .  Setting the glass.  Inserting the glazier's points…puntas de esmaltado in spanish,  pointes de vitrier in french and glasiernnagel in…maybe German?  …all those on the little package.  Instructions of the back side also given four ways.    But DONE.  no more flapping plastic.  Glass.   i think about Glass.  and then mind drifts to Julie's latest post on ThreadingtheDog.blogspot.  Glass.  when did Glass windows begin to figure in to the Norm?

It's Dark now.  5:35 p.m.   This morning i had a mouse in the Tin Cat live trap.  One more down.  Did not see the Yellow Kitten.  Did not do a single thing with Cloth but think of it.  That's it.  Today.