windthread

in her comment Dana said the above,  but to quote exactly,  "the uncompromising nature of their being"…animals.   But when i read it,  i read it just of …being.   it fit things so well.  and i realize that things here for a while have been hard.  but…it's a journal,  and it's a report of the days as they come and go.  i can't fix it.  what is,  is.  There ARE people,  i was thinking today,  who seem to have lives that are perfect.  or,  very smooth.   no difficult decisions,  no difficult events.  My children's father for one.   the most difficult thing he had to deal with recently is putting together an entire newly acquired condominium full of Ikea furniture.  he told the kids he was exhausted.  room after room after room.   

I am thinking so many things.   about Choice.   how we say Yes to things,  not knowing exactly what that Yes might mean.  and then …. we have more Choices even as we Go, as things Unfold, because we are truly NOT at the Center of anything at all.   it's a moving dynamic of many many players.  It's sort of My story,  but it's also The story,  me, just a player.

 

so.  yet one more grave.   the Child Buddha and the Goat.  moving from the Raft.  Tomorrow, when i can be here all day, i'll tie new rags to the sticks.  

and this morning,  after sleeping what felt like 5 minutes at a time all night,   i woke to start a fire.  I'm out of New York Times.   just Albuquerque Journal now.  but here.  This One.  and i looked long at the pictures and read.   About a clinic in Cuidad Juarez,  just over the New Mexico border.  I was there, some years ago.  it was rough then.  since then…well,  i assume people read the news.   this clinic is run by New Mexico's Sisters of Charity.  it began in 2003 as a health clinic but over time evolved to specialize in providing physical therapy to poor families with special needs children.  

 

 

 

What struck me most and deeply is that many of the parents who have lost their child to death,  continue to come.  they work in community with the nuns,  with the parents of children being treated.  they continue.  They Just Go.   Physical therapy,  sensory exercises and Reiki.  they continue.    There, in a world of the Uncompromising nature of Being,  they continue.  they Just Go.  so.

what to think?  i will re-play and re-play and re-play yesterday for as long as it takes.  Until something is quiet with in me.

and to tell the truth….i woke in the night, knowing for sure it was Lucky Star and her little one, Celia that had gotten out to roam the Buck's fence.  and in that instant, i also knew that the only reality was that it was Nogal who had bred Karma.   i had put off taking him away from his mother.  i had put it off because i didn't want to cause him to cry.  i had put it off because he was such a lap baby and so sweet and i didn't want to relegate him to the Big Boy Buck Pen.  and because of MY feelings, this happened.   it's mine.  this belongs to me.  and as straight talking Alberto said….."people like you shouldn't have animals.  get a toy".

 

 

 

 

 

i thought it was an ordinary Monday,  went to Alberto's this morning early to pick up the cement irrigation culverts that he told me i could have last week when we were at the Post Office.  but one of the men that works for him wasn't there.  so it was put off till tomorrow.  during the exchange he asked if i had babies coming.  i said no, that i didn't breed because i have trouble letting the kids go.  Alberto, being 80 some years old and having farmed on his land all his life,  raising sheep,  made a sound and said  yes.  there are a lot of people like you.  you should not have animals.  get a toy.

but he didn't write me off and tomorrow.  then Work Away.  then home to make sure i can get the Way Back gate open when we bring the culverts.  Shoveling.  raking.  then  making sure the Buck gate is accessible.  they will get one of the culverts.  then,  watching Karma.  Why is she calling calling calling?  Why is she not eating?  but CALLING CALLING CALLING and then i see some string of mucous and think it's her first heat and tho it's more mucous than ordinary,  i think, it's her first heat.   Then she screams.  and to spare the details,  somewhere around 5:10 p.m. she gives birth to a large stillborn doeling.   Karma is 9 months old.  and i flash that image of the doe and her little one loose that morning.  i'd remembered it as Lucky Star and Celia.  but in that moment i realized it was Caroline and Karma.  who had gotten out and were cruising the Buck's fence.  

so.

Life begets Life.  or Tries to.  

Caroline's first freshening was only a single doeling,  Jude's Magic.   so one.  but this one stillborn.

it's dark now.  i sat outside on the back porch, waiting to try to see the placenta delivered.  it got dark.   it's all quiet now out there.  while waiting i went out by the Raft and dug a buriel hole.  but the baby is wrapped in a purple silk cloth in the bathroom.  i'll tie the door closed in a while.  it won't stay closed on it's own and Tazmeena and Chinche are concerned.  So, in a while i'll tie it closed for the night.  Bury the little one in the morning.  See if Karma is ok.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

first half of day,  stitched.  nothing much to show for the time, but a lot of "ground work" done.  wanting to bunch up the gauze at the edges but i won't.  it means something to My eye, but not for the whole of the cloth.   

 

a bundle of the Too Blue cloth into the Coral Berry copper pot outside.

 

Mustangs.  Look how the eye is a Mirror

 

some of the older ones are learning to be Pack Horses.   too old to be desirable as Trail or Working horses,  they can have a good life this way.

 

some are still only allowing contact THROUGH the FENCE.  Wary.  Unpredictable.  Time is being taken with these.

 

 

 

early evening,  the BIG pile of weed things,  that are not good for Goats,  a BIG pile…burned.

 

and while watching the burn,  looking at

 

this chair i got 20 years ago at a yard sale.  i needed a chair then and it was ok.  but i have always disliked the orange plastic of it.   Over the years it has always been ready to go to the dump.   it's in many of the pics here,  near the gate.  just sitting there.  but it never went.  so, while i am watching the burning, 

 

 

i'll ask Paul who can do anything to cut me a new seat.    Linseed oil made the frame of it just OK enough.   My brother's friend will be coming back through soon…from Mexico, heading back home to Minnesota.  he wants the other chair at my table to match the one i gave him last year.  i'll need a chair.  this will be just OK.

so, good.  a day.

 

Jude…i am in the deepest Gratitude to you for your willingness to make that suggestion.   i Never in my wildest dreams would have thought of it as a solution.  Thank you.   Way More than Thank You.

 

and i once again had done what i seem to do,  to think i am just trying out possibilities, but then get caught up in the Going.   The scraps were attached only to a thin piece of tea dye muslin.  not enough.  but i really don't want the added energy of harem cloth inbetween,  so i looked for something to use as the "back".   Of course, i looked at all my plant dye pieces, which could have worked,  but then i thought of finding something in the shelves of Thrift Cloth.   This orangy amber was almost it.  but too much.

 

and then…maybe this blue?,  which was a skirt…it's beautiful fabric….but no.  it's TOO blue.  which makes the point again that i need to really work at overdyeing with plant materials to "cut" the too primary ness of a lot of the Thrift Shop cloth from clothing.   I'll remember now.  it's warming up.  i think that copper pot with Coral Berry might work with this blue.  

 

i looked at this a long long time.  WHY?, is the blue too blue?  and i looked at what remains pinned to the wall…how similar they all are and maybe i need to be daring and use Too Blue.   but i don't want to.

 

so i found some very soft cotton weave that is just one notch stronger than the muslin .  this is it.  In a way, i wish i could have used the other brighter colors.  but not here.  not for this Cloth.  it's a Love Cloth and this softness is it.  it originally was some kind of runner with cross stitch on it which i haven't quite finished picking out…you can see a little at the bottom.  

and i didn't say anything about the slipstream,  the WIND current.  after the first pressing,  i added that piece of Wind and pressed again.   Now it tells the Story.

and i'm thinking about how differently i feel tonight from last night when nothing was going right.  i'm not sure what to think.  Without Jude offering help,  i would have given up.  there would be a great sense of uneasiness to doing that.   Tonight,  it can just Go.   it's not the REAL sky,  not the REAL  "air",  but it is real enough to tell the Story.   so i think about this.  about how i almost gave up.  how i so easily could have.

 

 

 

 

 

a LOT of looking and i can't imagine it working,  but am not ready to give up yet.  many single invisible baste stitches to try to get a sense of what to do.   

and i wanted Crow to be made of Earth so i used that walnut overdye again but he needs black wings at least.  one so far.  

but i was too restless.  would no more sit  down and settle everything on my lap to stitch and i'd get up again.   Watched for the storms that are supposed to come this evening and in the night.  

 

i'd noticed when the company was here that Dalai Lama was at risk.  i am always aware that he's not quite glued down anymore, but other's don't notice.  he lasted through the visit and i decided now was the moment to apply the first coat of  (re) sealer.  Did that.  but then…

i went up to see what Alz. B was up to.  was lunch and she was at her usual place in the dining room, with one leg slung over the arm of her chair as she does,   but she was eyes wide open.  this is not the norm.   so we went from there…she looked at me.  then away to something internal.   drank her glass of juice  (straw)  but proceeded to let every mouthful (fed by spoon) fall out of her mouth.  not spitting it out as she sometimes does,  but just letting it fall out onto her shirt (bib).  

so back home.

where i got on a roll….

 

same thing going on with the door casing we made for the screen door except most of it has fallen off.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ramana Maharshi

 

Keepers of my Doorway.

 

and THIS  is the good of posting things at the end of each day.  by this time in the evening,  the days thoughts and events have sifted down, settled…..  and i know in this moment that that idea of silk gauze isn't going to work.  no matter what i do.  there's going to need to be another way.  ok.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

don't know if this will work at all.   only way to find out is stitch more.    it's silk gauze…a very light blue grey or grey blue.  

 

it was late last night and i was still thinking about these scraps.  Why?.   not at all what i might want to work on.  Uneasy.   and i went to bed.  but, lying there,  i remembered the word that Alz B. used to use a lot.  she used it for many things in her last years before going to the Old Folks Home in particular.   i was trying to remember it the other day in a conversation with her son.  i couldn't think of it.   lying in bed,  out of the blue,  i remembered.  Hideous.

and that word tripped off a series of images.  of her over the last several years, of her in the shower the other day.  and the last, almost a still shot,  is her…..Look.  her looking at me,  suddenly, three times  as we sat in the SunRoom of the Old Folks Home the last time i was there.  As usual, she appeared to be sleeping.  eyes closed.  slumped and curled in her big reclining wheelchair kind of affair.  the TV was on.  it was Gunsmoke reruns and i was sitting on the couch holding her hand, absently running my index finger along the palm.  now and then,  i'd say something.  try to engage her.  but then go back to watching the TV.  during that time, a half hour,  out of nowhere,  her eyes opened and she "shot me a look"….direct and Hard.  each time i responded with her name, with a comment…but there was nothing but that split second LOOK and she would close her eyes.  Close her Self.  

 

i stitched it this morning.  with red thread.  red thread for the blood that continues coursing through her veins.  her heart is strong.  the "heart" that is a biological organ.  it is strong.  

 

but this is Her.  like what she is now.  i have no idea,  her sense of herSelf.  none.  she has no speech to tell me.   just random words that don't connect one to another…mutterings.  and then her singing,  which is for some reason the most of all intact.  

 

and i pinned this drawing to the back of the cloth.  so i would remember what it was i was feeling as i was trying to understand a way of Seeing that was Unfamiliar to me

 

so, this might be enough.  the Sky and Sun might just stay pinned.  She never cared.  even in her better days she didn't really care.   We were an odd pair.  Together because her son wanted us to be.  but i don't think we ever would have chosen each other otherwise.  there were differences.

She at one time,  not long after moving here from her home because he wanted her to,  after moving here,  she took training to be the Ombudsman at this same Old Folks Home.  and ombudsman is the ally of the resident.  helping the resident express and hold their own wishes in the circumstance of their physical ability and living in an end life or extended care facility.  but she never followed through because she found the residents there….Hideous.  i asked her…Why?  Why Hideous?

and she said they are Ugly.

i think this Cloth was for no purpose at all except to help me understand how it might be for her in this time.  how she somehow is IN there….in this body,  in this skull,  looking out still.  but she is not connecting at all with what is Seen.  there is a total disconnect,  maybe.  there is her Consciousness and then Everything else, "out there".  She is trapped in a way.  the blood flows strong.  who knows how long.  but there is that disconnect.    The Cloth helps me understand.  it's not pretty.

 

 

Second WorkAway.  done now for some days.  glad.    Something is shifting for the Old Cowboy.  I expect changes.   

 

Old Apricot, so far, so good

 

in the dark

 

incidental pic of wood lizard and guitar strings on porch post

 

so..this would be from the Inside of my head…looking out through those holes of my eyes…  nostril holes, mouth hole   the mind, i guess,  looking out?   

 

now pinned up.  will just leave it until ….until i don't know.  until.

i helped Ann the Bath Giver bathe Alz B this morning.  the human being is a complete mystery.

 

 

 

 

 

the tomato plant ties from last year

 

a piece of one

 

a piece of copper wire that was on the ground

 

together

 

cloth i dyed with Coral Berry

 

together.

 

the very close walkway.  slate.  where i raked and then swept so many dried up poops from Tulip in her last weeks when she could only manage to get that far.

 

the Rag Flag

 

 

i bumped the mouse into the keyboard and this happened

 

exactly as i saw it.  Where? ,  did this come from?   it has never been there before.  This is a log that borders the Onion Bed.  

 

so…looking.  and feeling somewhat adrift.  it was a WorkAway day and not a whole lot left of it when i got home and i felt somewhat adrift.  Somewhat adrift.  and realized it has been only a week, which means 7 days since Rory, Zarina and Owen were here.  That seems forever ago.  and that it is only 2 days since that 365 day which also seems forever ago.    I have no cloth in the making.  there is an empty space there.  i am just in a place of Looking.   like i am in a place where i need to 

re  Place myself.   ie  re Position.   that i have shifted out of Position.  shifted.  shifted out.  am floating like those Crows…floating, but not flying.   riding the currents.  

and looking at those cloth pieces,  i suddenly thought i wonder HOW i could depict what it is to  ummmm….to LOOK out….to look out of my own head, my own eyes, my own being.  to not depict what i see when i look,  to to depict the ACT of Looking.   Something "in me", that is "me" Looks.  Like through the holes in my skull, with my eyeballs and Sees things.   HOW can i make a cloth that Shows that?

 

 

 

that i said that Something Always Happens.   and that stuck in my mind.  it's been dark for a while now.  And i really don't  know where they sleep now, when they are IN.   IN being in the Near Place that has the most shelter.  that has the large space for keeping dry, sheltered.   do they go IN there?  when they are Out Back,  they just sleep Out.  If there is moisture coming down upon them,  Rain, Snow,,,,,they run for cover in the two small but open shelters.  

i moved them yesterday or whenever it was, because there was a forecast of Rain/Snow.  i moved them for shelter from that.  but i don't know what They think. 

so, just now, i went out with the flashlight.  to know.  it's good to Know Stuff.

they were all in the far side of the Albatross.  it has, right now, the most straw bedding.  and it is the farthest from WIND.  they were all there., the doe Goats.   Arranged, mother/daughter or sleeping partner/sleeping partner.  and there was also a small bird.

Over in the Buck Pen…and i find that word harsh tonight…pen….but Over in the buck pen,  they were here and there.  No one was in the shelter that i had put together yesterday.  they are all sleeping under the stars.

so i know a little more about them.  and now it's time for me to sleep.  With a fire burning.  Dog.  Cat.  how we do it.