Google+ What I Made Today

Monday, November 1, 2021

November Arrives...

... and with it, the new year. While the pace of the season relaxes, there's still plenty in the gardens to enjoy, harvest, preserve, and plant in this new year. Heck, we harvested four cucumbers from the last of the cuc plants just three days ago. That was a first; cucumbers at the end of October. ::nods:: Alongside our cold hardy plants there's still zucchini offering fruit despite the increasing chill. Zucchini in November. It's concerning, yet I'm grateful. And I'll be harvesting it today, since killing frosts may be upon us this week. These first couple of November days will overflow with urgency as I harvest all that cares not for freezing; the zucchini, celery, celeriac, lovage, thai basil, holy basil, tobacco, grindelia, calendula, probably the turnip 'n' rutabaga too will find a home indoors to sustain us with their nutrition 'n' Medicine in the months ahead. Later, before snow 'r extreme cold, we'll collect the last of the cabbage, kale, collards, choys, mustard 'n' radish greens, and dig up some horseradish after some frosts, but before the soil freezes solid. 

It's a season ripe with hellos  'n' goodbyes.

Every year, at this time (which varies in the linear measure), when the first true frosts hit I exhale a sigh of sadness, relief 'n' gratitude. It's so fitting to this melancholy 'n' mournful season of honor 'n' celebration.

I feel Earth, Nona Gaia, asking me - and all of us - to slow down, as she does every year at this time when autumn leans in. Yet this year I feel a distinct sense of urgency. It's disquieting to me, as opposed opposites tend to be... ripe with antithetical verve... verve that demands my attention (and yours) as we sink into the darkening arms of deep autumn.

I invite you to slow down (if only for a moment) to make time 'n' space to join me, to sink into some quiet 'n' stillness where you can perceive what's real 'n' true, good 'n' right, for all our kin... past, present, 'n' future. 

Peace. 🕊

Saturday, July 31, 2021

A Spark

This was the scene a year ago today. A farewell blessing to a physical space. A space that had 'n' held such amazing spirit. A space that transformed to pure verve... a verve that wafts in the ethers, a verve that is carried, still, in my heart, and in the hearts of others, a verve that keeps us connected.

I don't miss this physical space. What I do miss is the vibrant, light-filled spark that was born there of many an exchange, individual and collective... a spark rooted in relationship 'n' reciprocity, a spark that burns still. 

And I'm feeling grateful. So grateful.

Peace. 🕊

Friday, July 9, 2021

Arachnid 'n' Halley


I've been experiencing enormous comfort from these insistent rains, and in working in the officina (apothecary, if you prefer) these past couple/few days. Yesterday I was able to both harvest carrots and plant carrot seeds; a medicinal metaphor of meaning if ever there was one. Catching up on tasks 'n' communications that had been forfeited over the days prior, sorting through DPM (dry plant matter), especially the powders, to see what stays 'n' goes, making plans for students 'n' workshops all served to offer meaningful focus through which I was able to harmonize needed function with necessary sobbing. It's been a time of grieving, mourning, and healing, to say the least.

I'm still stunned at the expanse of this loss; the feeling in my chest - my heart - is palpable. Tears well up without warning, and fall like the rains. 

I've been working with Arachnid since Tuesday to hold my fractured heart open, yet together without breaking apart, as I grieve. She's woven a strapping 'n' silky-soft web around my heart, with the shattered pieces held open 'n' in place as I feel the feels that must be felt. When the time is ripe, she will assist me in mending the shards together with gold. 

I'm mightily blessed to Know and have relationship with Arachnid, a personal ally since the mid-1990s. Consciously, that is... I'm confident that the relationship is much, much older. She is, in my experience, never demanding. She shows up at will - her will - with unmistakable messages when I need them; I mean, you tell me that a spider bite on your butt doesn't speak with clarity. She responds without hesitation or judgement to my calls for support. She responded to my call to weave support around sweet Halley's backside on her final day with us. Between her loving fibers holding my heart - and me - together without falling hopelessly apart, and beloved Anubis holding Halley in her final day with us (more on that later), I feel grateful beyond grateful. 

It is a mighty comfort to have blessed Arachnid holding my heart, my life, my love, right now. I am beyond grateful for her blessings.

Peace. 🕊

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

Gods, I Loved Her.

I wake today to a space that is forever changed. It is void of a 70 pound loving presence that I shall infinitely miss. Yesterday, our beloved Halley Josephine moved from this realm to the big mystery. Gods, I loved her.

It all happened pretty fast. Which is a blessing. A month or two ago she began favoring her rear left leg. She was old, 14 years, and in being on the old trek myself, I chocked it up to years 'n' milage, and adjusted her medicinals. Despite her age, she always thought she was a puppy, and was filled with a cheekiness she'd express with dogged regularity. She'd jump like a lunatic when dinner was served al fresco, though not as high in recent days. She'd bark sass at her DaddyGuy when he didn't leash her up fast enough to get going on the walks she loved, be it around the neighborhood or around the little acre. In this vein, I could go on, and in saying that, there may well be more posts to honor her unselfish yet demanding spirit. Gods, I loved her.

About a week ago the favoring of the leg became more pronounced. She had jumped off the deck to run at and bark at a rabbit, so, again, I didn't make much of it, figuring it was a strain that would mend. Yet each day the favoring progressed. On the 3rd  of July I contacted a vet who specialized in at-home emergency and end of life care. She was out of state until the 6th, offered compassion, and options if we weren't able to hold out for the three days. So as the favoring and her hobble progressed, we did our best, as did she, to hold it together. I need to express that the fucking 4th of July bombing adorations didn't help any, and I was especially grateful for her passion flower 'n' chamomile CBD chews that night. We all went to bed early that evening, windows closed, fans running to muffle the loathsome explosions of neighbors near 'n' far. I spoke silently to Halley's spirit, prayed to Anubis 'n' others, as we all tossed 'n' turned with discomfort, occasionally switching on the soft light to see if she was trying to get up. Gods, I loved her.

The 6th came and with it a confirmation that Dr. Leah of Holistic Home Veterinary Services LLC was on her way. The waiting was pregnant with so many feelings, and in that time we did our best to comfort 'n' love our ol' girl. I can't even express depth 'n' width of my gratitude that we could do this at home, by her side, caressing her, whispering our love to her, with a vet of remarkable compassion. She was such a good girl. Gods, I loved her.

Today is hard. So hard. Overflowing with tears and gut wrenching sobs; smiles 'n' laughs, too. I'm nurturing the feelings, every one of them, for this little 70 pound bundle of attitude 'n' love gave us so much, and filled our little hut with more love than I realized. Gods, I loved her.

She will missed beyond measure. Gods, I loved her. We both did. So, so much.

Peace. 🕊

Sunday, June 27, 2021

Room for Forgiveness

two people in my life
one can change that
by coming clean
being honest with himself
with others
the other can not
her actions
can not be undone
her cruelty is fixed

Peace. 🕊

Saturday, May 15, 2021

Rhubarb, Rhubarb, Rhubarb.

It's been rhubarb week on the little acre, and every year 'round this time I’m on the lookout for new ways to preserve - and enjoy in its season - the rhubarb.

I’d never made fruit leather before this week. I figured it might be a nice way to preserve the rhubarb, so I gave it a go, and I can’t help but wonder why I’ve never made fruit leather before. This week I made a couple of batches for the pantry shelves, one simple with some lemon zest, and another with some of our homemade freezer wine (which, this tear, featured res raspberries and black currants from - yep~ - freezer). This mint is coming up, so the next batch might be a rhubarb mint. We shall see...

And to enjoy in the moment I made some deliciously tart rhubarb crisp that’s inspiring me to put vanilla ice cream on the shopping list… or maybe I’ll make some. ::nods:: In  the meantime, it's nice on its own, and with some kefir in a bowl to eat with a spoon. 

Peace. 🕊

Friday, May 14, 2021

Perpetual Spinach

This week we cut back our perpetual spinach. Perpetual spinach, also called beet spinach 'round these parts is actually a chard, and we’ve been harvesting it all spring to add to our salads. But it was time to cut it down, strip the tender leaves, give them a steam and a cold water plunge, before lightly straining and packaging it all into two pint containers for the freezer.

The stems were simmered with astragalus root, some bay leaves, and sea salt to create a stock to use for a risotto.

I bless my garden, it blesses me. I bless the earth, she blesses me. 

Peace. 🕊🌱🕊

Saturday, May 1, 2021

It's the Lusty Month of May

May Day arrives, cool, gusty, sunny, and with the promise of warming spring days, and still-expanding daylight. May Day arrives marking the lusty midpoint between spring and summer, and then some.

I love and appreciate all of the seasons, all of the holy days of Nature's wheel (which, to me, is every single day). Yet today I pause to observe my world - holistically - as we corral into the first day of the month we call May. I pause to renew my lusty passion to honor this warming earth, this compassionate mother, her sumptuous and ever-spiraling berth for seed, root, sprout, leaf, bud, bloom, blossom, fruit, and more - much more. As I pause to acknowledge my shortcomings and renew my vows, I offer her - and you - this prayer: May we venerate the undeniable greening and renewal that makes manifest in ways unlike any other spoke in the wheel of the year; may we hold sacred the miracle of life, with all its enchanting diversity; may we treat this earth and all life she supports better than we do today; may we practice the reciprocity that she - and all life - deserves.

May reminds us in very bold ways - if we're paying attention, that is - how much this earth, our Nona Gaia, loves life, is life. If only we would reciprocate... with lusty passion of intent and action.