Google+ What I Made Today

Sunday, November 1, 2020

Welcome to November

This is my new year month. November is my passageway into fresh mystery and manifestation. Now, understand that every day - every single day - holds such verve, yet (for me, anyway) November cradles a special capacity to concentrate it. So it is that I throw a full year spread for guidance as I look ahead and see the bold contrasts, the gentle shifts and pristine starts, complete with formidable challenges and indomitable rewards. For all of us. I thank the mighty reflections exposed and disclosed during October's work for this view, and offer gratitude to the counsel of the cards.


As I look to the year ahead I see revisions in my personal sphere. I see this year as the final year for taking on certificate students, closing a 21-year chapter. I see a rededication to my current students, and more seasonal, custom, and spontaneous teachings for all. I see tarot readings returning. And healing works. I see sharing skills 'n' experiences, resources 'n' wisdom in new ways. 

I see lots of work to do. For all of us. Inner and outer. 

I see contempt in all its forms, denied 'n' subtle, brazen 'n' violent, and then some, exposing itself even more blatantly than present... so that we may bind 'n' banish it. Banish it. Banish it.

I see the coming of a long 'n' solitary winter. In this vision I feel this season - the heart of autumn - invite me to check in on friends 'n' loved ones. I see a chilling phase that challenges me to LoVe in new ways.

I see lots of work to do. Lots. Inner and outer. For all of us. I see manifesting. I see magick.

And I invite you to join me in this November passage. And then some.

Peace
. 🕊

Thursday, October 29, 2020

The Season's Garden


Today is for rain. As was yesterday. And tomorrow snow is forecasted. 

Today I'll harvest in the rain. Yesterday I wallowed in October's melancholy and crocheted most of it away. And tomorrow I'll light a fire in the fireplace, light candles, light my inner worlds, and crochet some more.

There will be more harvesting after this snow fall, and the coming of the first hard frost, but it's almost ready to tuck in... the season's garden... and me.

🕊


Saturday, October 24, 2020

A Mighty Invitation

The thriving October garden.
Blooms for the pollinators.
Past, present and future.


October is the month in which I prepare for the new year. My new year. 

It's the month, in my region, that the summer gardens release their hold. For those in my region who grow 'n' gather their own food and Medicine it's a busy month. Busy, to be sure, yet a variety of busy-ness that is paced and filled to overflow with meaning and value. A month of harvest, seeding and putting-by. A month of past 'n' present. And future.

It is a month of reflection for me. As I harvest, plant, preserve and be in the shifting landscape, I reflect on the activities, relationships, and so-called outcomes of the past year. I reflect on what has added value to my life and to the lives of others - near 'n' far, known 'n' unknown. I reflect on - and with - the ancestors in every way that I can conjure them... the green slime, Nona Gaia and all her - our - kin, the elementals, my parents and their lineages, and others, including those of the imaginal realms, all who join me and share their LoVe 'n' wisdom when I seek 'n' request such.

Traditionally, I seek projections my October reflections. Yet, in these days we live in projections hold less value. For me, that is. This past year is changed. The present is changed. And so, too, the future.

This year I hear the ancestors, all of them, requesting a shift in action, and as I sit - quietly... in stillness - I hear them whisper an invitation to return to the eternal now... to the present. 

It's a mighty invitation. And worthy, methinks. If I want to continue to affect positive change on the future, I must continue to affect positive change to the present. The conventional world (if you know me, you know what I'm talkin' about) feeds us anxiety for the past and want 'n' worry for the future. That conventional world invests in distracting us from the present... because that's the only place that change can happen. 

So, ironically, as I reflect and project, I recommit mySelf to the present... to positive change... for me, for you, for the past and future, for the earth, for life.

I invite you to join me. And the ancestors. It's a mighty invitation. And worthy.

Peace. 🕊


Thursday, October 1, 2020

Welcome, Beloved October

 

In many ways this is a wind-down month for me. As the deciduous foliage sings 'n' dances in animated color of Autumn's sinking roots, many aspects of the earth prepare to rest, and what's left of significant harvests and autumn plantings are managed. It's a month of dramatic transition 'n' transformation, of like 'n' contrasting expressions, of dropping seeds 'n' gatherings harvests. It is a month of sensual poetry, filled with sounds, smells, sights, and ordinary 'n' extraordinary sensations. It is the autumnal month of the thinning veils, and the time to prepare for the veneration of the ancestors. All of them. It's my birth month, and the final month before the renewal of the Celtic agricultural calendar, so it is my month for reflecting, projecting... and being, as the earth-rooted activities wane with the daylight. It's a month that often has me dreaming of and anticipating the tuck-in verve of the month that follows.

It's a month - this year - that begins and ends with a full moon. It's a month I relish.

May you make time 'n' space to still yourself this month... to take in the full and blue moon that frames it, to open your senses - all of them - to honor the sensual extremes and nuance of October, to honor the earth, Nona Gaia, her gifts, her kin, and our shared ancestors. To honor the mystery and love of the season. And then... share it with others.

🕊
Peace.

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

Salty's Final Egg

 

Ol' Salty’s final egg.

Backyard farming has its highs and lows, its ease and challenges, its joys and sorrows.

And I am grateful for all of it.

🕊

Peace.

Thursday, September 3, 2020

Oil Preserved Orange Bananas

It's - for sure - tomato season. Every day there's more to harvest, and I'm so grateful, as I am every year. This year I'm growing four heirloom varieties: Cosmonaut Volkov, Opalka, Romany (known, commercially, by another name), and Orange Banana. And it's Orange Banana that I'm working with today. 
I still have plenty of canned tomato puree from past years, so this year I'm focused on other preserves and preserving methods for my paste tomatoes. One technique I stumbled on that I've never tried before is roasting and packing the tomatoes in olive oil. There's varying information out there, not on the process, but rather how long they keep in cool storage. Some say weeks. Some say months. So I'll be making a few batches to see what my results are, in the frig, and in our basement. 

In any event, the technique is super-simple: Clean, dry, slice the tomatoes (if using a cherry variety I'd poke a hole through them with a skewer, or slice in half). Place the slices on a baking sheet, salt and drizzle with extra virgin olive oil. Roast in a 420F degree oven for 15-20 minutes.

Then pack the tomatoes in a jar, leaving no room for air pockets, and 1.5 inches of headroom... 

Top with at least an inch of extra virgin olive oil, ensuring no plant matter is exposed to the air. Cap and keep in cool storage (IE: refrigerator, or a cool cellar). 

I'm anxious to see how these last. I'm equally anxious to use them in cooking. This first batch I made plain and plan to use it as the last jar in the test. I'll be making two more batches flavored with garlic and herbs.

I have preserved eggplant and peppers in oil with positive results, and am hoping the same holds true with tomatoes. Techniques like this are valuable to me (and to all of us), as they reduce water use, which is vital as clean, potable water continues to be raped 'n' ruined by the captains of greed 'n' profit... the captains of end stage capitalism. But, anyway...

I'll be harvesting more tomatoes to eat, to dry, to can, to ferment, and experiment with. Clearly, tomatoes are a staple in our little hut. ::nods:: 

Peace.  🕊

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Welcome to September

 

And to a rumination of randomness...

As summer wanes this month, the pace of harvest 'n' preservation ratchets up, and when autumn arrives the pace will spring into overdrive. So it is that September dances with pace 'n' quickening.

All things considered, the rhythm of August felt balanced to me, and for that I am so grateful, as it was a month that beat with holistic challenge. For many of us. Now, with September's arrival, I know that cadence is preparing to surge, and I'm - yet again - grateful that I was able to make time 'n' space last month to reflect on July's transitions, transformations and actions, and I hope that I'll be able to manifest similar time 'n' space in the coming days 'n' weeks to reflect on August's integrations.

It's been a strange summer, for so many, if not all of us. I pray that we - collectively - are not waiting around for a return to any semblance of normalcy. As autumn approaches, this is our season to plant the seeds, bulbs, rhizomes, creative dreams of action to make manifest something fresh 'n' fair, good 'n' right, caring 'n' just. In big ways. In wee ways. In any way that fits.

As I move forward into September I will give attention my holistic plantings, as I consider behaviors and actions in the gardens, in my community, and in the greater world. I invite you to do the same.

To learn more about what's coming up this month and the special offerings click here.

Peace.  🕊

Saturday, August 1, 2020

August Already

Lammas blessings to one and all.


Harvests happen in every season, yet August is a month that ramps up the pace and urgency that will continue into autumn. After all, it is the final full month of summer.

Given July's focus of emptying the brick 'n' mortar at Whiting Mills, the gardens were a bit neglected, so I'm really looking forward to playing some serious planting, tending, and harvesting catch-up this month. To harvest the early potatoes, the turnips 'n' beets, more beans, peppers, cucumbers, summer squash, corn, herbs, and to see a second (and third, and fourth...) tomato ripen are all anticipations that stoke my heartflame.

That said... yeah, the public brick 'n' mortar is no more, and I'm once again working from home. I invite you all to know that I'm still here doing the work I'm called to do, of which supporting you is a seminal part. I will continue online gathers 'n' teaching, and will provide herbs 'n' herbals to those in my community - by any definition. And I'll get back to arting 'n' crafting as well. All in good time. 

For now my heart is facing the August harvests, of harmonizing the ones I missed in July, and composing for those coming up. Holistically... Gently...

Recently these two cards from one of Lori Barker's Spirit Collage decks came to me... "Let go of control" and, "Be willing to slow down." I couldn't have chosen two more fitting messages for me, for August. The usual tea gatherings are in place this month, as is our Herb of the Month, as well as a couple of classes, but other than that, Walk in the Woods will be yielding to revisiting the pace and rewards of (what I call) randomness. I look forward to checking my privilege and experiencing whatever yields from this yielding. It looks like I'll be turning inward a bit, abandoning much of the discipline around the botanical, mystical, expressive, and justice work that I do. Randomness. That's the tug I feel. And I'm ready to welcome it.

Despite my personal pace and yielding this month, remember that as a Medicine Womyn I am here for you - YOU, so reach out to me for any Medicine you may need. ::nods::

Peace. 
 🕊