windthread

stopped at the Thrift Shop on the way down from seeing Alz. B for the first time in over a week.  (They had Norovirus and did not want anyone coming in and out.  Today that was lifted and life will go on as usual.)   This dress was there.  It's homemade.  It's perfect.  Can you see the repeat of the inverted triangle of the pockets …their flaps?    and i don't know the correct words,  but the pattern of the cloth  (cotton) for the skirt  was also cut in an inverted V,  perfectly matched.  Who made this,  i wonder?  My intention is to take the sleeves off,  the collar,  change the buttons and turn it into a Hose Dress.  (Hose Dress:  light cotton dress that as i work outside in heat,  i hose self down …with the hose….and as the water evaporates,  i am cool)  But now as i look at it,  i'm not sure i can do that.  Someone went to great lengths creating this dress.   hmmmm.

 

a very fine plain light weight silk jacket.   Back to Jude's Contemporary Boro.  21 century Rags.  But i have maybe 3 or 4 like this already in some basket or other.  Why did i bring this home?

 

and similarly so,  Yet Another pair of perfect overalls.  Just to the point of nicely worn.  Route 66 brand, these.  But i already have a pair.  and so, the question of Why arises again.

 

and this.  A pillow case.  Again, homemade.   There is a darkening in the middle…both sides….a stain.  It smells nice,  is nicely washed,  but the stain gives it some kind of extra feeling that is ify.  I am guessing it's from the head that lay upon it.    A head that used some kind of hair product.  Am thinking of a man's hair product.   But i am a sucker for this kind of old cotton print.   i like it a lot.

I made a quick run to Walmart for the Old Cowboy's essentials.  10 frozen Banquet Turkey Pot Pies  (pretty much all he wants to eat anymore),   Walmart bakery Cinnamon Swirl Bread,  Halls throat lozenges,  the rootbeer hard candies he likes,   and i threw in a bag of grapes which he will let rot in the refrigerator.  Dropped all that off.  

Stopped at the Other vet and talked to him.  Made an appointment for Thursday at 3 for him to come and trim Magic's scur.    We'll see if it goes better than the last scur trim for Barbara who was ostrasized for 3 days because she bled.   Part of the reason that happened was because i didn't hold her well enough.   I explained that to this vet,  a different one,  and he just listened patiently and said yes, well, ok.   So i am visualizing well ahead how i need to hold Magic.  but she is  a strong Goat and very uhhh,  headstrong.  Thursday.

all that and i cleaned Allen's house which is the home now for Thing One and Thing Two,  two kittens.   It's an Event.    They zip from object to object like tiny meteors….are barely visible because of their speed.

 

this small soul waited here at home.   There is a very thin copper thread.  Loosened from a Chore Boy Scrubbie.   It was on the floor.   I like it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tazmeena has her Place back

 

back to look more at the Oriole nest

 

the string is from feed bags.  They have horses.

 

the entire bottom has this blue and white plastic woven in.  not sure what that's from.  I'll find out.

 

 

 

inside,  some maybe decorative pieces,  or,  maybe Educational pieces…that just dawned on me.  Bits of the Cottonwood seed blooms,  bits of dried Cottonwood leaves.   Could it be?,  to inform the new ones of which tree to look for.  Orioles nest here in Cottonwoods.    and suddenly, when i was looking at this pic i Knew what the center layer is.   Until just this moment,  i was wondering what the soft layer is that is between the first and outer Weave of horsehair.   i wondered if it was dog hair, but no.  and then,  they have llamas.   Maybe undercoat of llama?,  but that seemed unlikely.  But when i wondered the above,  about if the small decorations inside were to Educate the new ones,  suddenly i Knew.  It is the "fluff",  the "cotton" that bursts from the seed pods of the tree and for a short time fills the skies with floating drifting  "cotton fairies".   How Brilliant!   How just  surreal.   There is close to an eight of an inch of this fiber between the horsehair weaves.   It is very soft and very much like wool.  

The nests are used again and again by mating pairs that Winter elsewhere and return each spring.  Unless, as in this case,  WIND brings them down.   And then,  a new nest must be built.   But if the old nest remains,  it is inspected closely,  reinforced and used again.   I keep thinking how this nest was woven with a Beak.  a Beak of a bird.   Fiber by fiber.  Seed fluff by seed fluff.   I would give almost Anything to watch this.   Maybe sometime i can.  They return year after year to the large old Cottonwood at Bill and Nelia's.   Maybe someday i can  have the kind of life that would allow me to just go sit there.  Wait for their return,  and watch.  Watch her bring  the horsehair,  a strand at a time.   Weave.  with her beak.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

this.  under the Apricot Tree.  just lying there amidst the grasses, dried leaves,  organic debris.  i've never seen such a thing.  Looking,  i think it is an egg case of a Gall Wasp.  i have never seen a Gall Wasp here,  either.  it's dry and firm.  how firm,  i don't know because i don't want to put too much pressure simply for my own curiosity…things are forming in there.  becoming in there.   

 

 

 

Marti and i found an Oriole nest when we went to get grass hay for the Goats.

but the most important are these two.

This morning i read this.   About ….  this:

the Love Letter was taken to a

dock

a dock in Florida,  where she spent the day till dusk.   Can you Imagine?  How this FEELS?  this cloth that i made here in the middle of New Mexico,  spent a day lying on a DOCK in Florida?????

when i was a child,  i "had" to spend chunks of time with my maternal aunt in Northern Michigan,  at their cottage on a small lake.  Because of lonliness,  i spent hours of days of weeks,  lying on my stomach on the  creaking wooden Dock,  that rocked me like a baby in a cradle.  The water,  singing soft songs,  the smell, fragrance, scent of water plants comforting me.   Looking over the edge, deep, then deeper,  watching all the myriad of beings who inhabited that small body of water.  Feeling Held.   and to see this,  this morning,  a Flood of FeltSense, of deep deep Happiness.  and that's not all.  Guess what's NEXT?….Love Letter is going to go 

Kayaking.   who could have imagined.

and then i needed to make a big trip to the Laundromat, which you might remember is called  the Bubble Machine,  but on the way i stopped at the little post office,  just in case,  and YES…..YES.

 

HERE.  in my home.  First Iris….Patricia Spangler…followingthread.wordpress.com…..here.  Here, in my hands.  in my home.  First Iris.   

I cannot tell you the nuance of this Cloth.  It carries the Soul of an Iris.   the stitching of her Beingness….so delicate, yet so fierce,  just as Iris is.  and the earth,  that holds the rhizomes,  the rhizomes.  The sky that repeats or that is repeated in the bloom.  

I carry her around this house,  her weight,  her Colour,  everything.  i carry her around,  holding her out at arms length….seeing her against the backdrop of where i live.  i'd thought i knew which place i would put her.  But at least for now,  she will be many places.

and i found the book.  I'd thought maybe in one of those Reduce to the Bone moods that i'd taken it off to the Library Sale.  but no.  it was somehow in the cookbooks.  ????

Querencia    Stephen Bodio.  and at the very beginning,  this quote:

"Querencia:

The word doesn't translate.  It is used in Spanish to designate that mysterious little area in the bullring that catches the fancy of the fighting bull when he charges in.  He imagines it his sanctuary:  when parked there, he supposes he cannot be hurt….So it is,  borrowing the term,  that one can speak of one's "querencia" to mean that little, unspecified area in life's arena where one feels safe, serene."

William F. Buckley,  Racing Through Paradise

 

and Just Now,  Hanging Laundry in the Company of Goats

 

 

 

there is Nothing.   Nothing.   Nothing better than this.

 

 

He's worn to a frazzle.  His feet hurt,  his knees are giving out,  it took him 2 hours to shave his head,  sitting down,  on his walker seat.   His nose is running like a faucet,  his mind  is full of screaming meme s (don't know how to spell that),  he wonders why he did anything and everything he ever did.

so,  we worked on the thousands of movies he has pirated from his  TV movie network thing,  seperating them, bagging them up to get rid of.  They are all in the back of my car right now.  i told him i'd think of something to do with them.  But i laughed a lot and that saved the day.  When i laugh, he feels like stuff's ok.  When i'm silent,  a lot of the time,  he gets worried.   and so. 

 

 

the Walnut pot.  mouldy and stinky,  but still potent.   It went Out Side today.

 

building a shelter for a soul

 

Altar is Working

here we are.  after a day long head ache of Typepad,  all is well.  Sigh.

 

 

 

the world of my sisters.  Can you see them?  Blue Tailed Sisters…..Whiptails?

 

and to day.  ToDay.   i met a young woman at the feed store last week.  Tonight she came.  in tow,  her two sons,  one in fourth grade.  Engaging,  smart,  personable.  One,  Autistic,  engaging, personable and into the GOATS.   and her ….MAN.  who has taken her On.  Taken her and these two sons ON.  and they came.  they came to see the Goats.  They have acres.  acres of land.  

i will  give Jude's Magic and Barbara to them.  Between the two of them,  they will be able to deal with the issue of scurs.   

what to say?….i don't quite know.  i don't quite know.

Stuff's not perfect.  Perfect in a kind of world.  But in another world,  it's very perfect enough.

SO.   This morning  i   "got somewhere".   O hallelujah!  

The last time i had to "work" so hard was around 30 some years ago when i Understood that i needed,  like NEEDED to learn to meditate.   

This last period of time felt as urgent,  as Necessary,  but i had no clue really about which direction.  Patricia,  followingthread.wordpress.com  asked me some questions in an email yesterday.  Things she wondered about what i'd been saying here about Sorrow…to clarify  where i was coming from.  For this,  i am grateful.    In thinking about the questions and in trying to answer them,  i  pushed self this morning to  Keep Going.   And where i got to is GOOD.  this is in part the response email and i'm just putting it here because it's enough for now.   Goats are stirring and  i'll need to go out.  From the email reply:

This morning your words pushed me to read more.  I didn't want to.  Was feeling like i just want to do nothing for a while.  But your words caused me to formulate a thought….that what we are experiencing has exceeded the limitations of the Personal and opened into the vast space of the Collective and that word,  Collective…in the Jungian sense ….was the key to where i DID get to just now.  I think we are willing to look at what we have no way to SEE,  as in understand,  what we might be peering at.  Because it is NEW.  Just NEW.  We are acting on a FeltSense that something is being asked of us but we don't know what it is or how to explain it to ourselves.  It's evolution.  Remember in Eckhart Tolle's book he oh so bluntly says Evolve or Die?  Well, i think there is a Collective Awareness that that statement is not just an intellectual/spiritual one, but an Evolutionary Reality.  We are Evolving.  Whether we like it or not.  Whether we have any clue about how it might feel.  What the result might be.   For us personally, but in that as part of Humanity as a whole.   So i thank you for helping me get somewhere with it all this morning.  i feel now like i have a direction…at least for Time Being…and that's all there is, Right?, Time Being?

 

So  i wanted to get this down here.   Because i feel like i'm on a roll.  I feel like i am rolling forward through to the other side of Sorrow…at least for the Time Being.  And here are my Teachers, my Touchstones for this part of the trip.

 

photosynthesis

 

Sky Beetle

 

my son's daughter,  Giana Lily Alluvial Fan

 

Goats

 

 

 

 

the work of Mary Evelyn Tucker

 

the work of Kristin Ohlson

 

The new thought of COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS

 

These things.  Good Enought for Time Being.  and eeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEE.  what a Relief!