8.6.09
gulp... and eggs
i just cashed in 11 years of frequent flyer miles to book a trip to boston in july. i am such a hoarder that it almost hurts to actually use the miles. i like to just watch them collect in that account. i cashed in the equivalent of 14 one-way, cross country trips...all those trips to and from college for holidays and summers and all the other adventures that required air travel...and that is just on one airline. and now my miles account is at 848 miles. just numbers...and a free trip to find myself (and fierce, woof) a new home.
the girls haven't been using their nesting box, instead just making a nest in the straw on the floor of the coop (those weirdos). liz must have cleaned out the coop over the weekend while i was gone. anyhow, the girls must have been flustered since their floor-nest was gone with the clean out with not quite enough straw laid down to make a good nest (heaven forbid they hop back up to the perfect nesting box!)...chickens are really good at panic-ing. anyhow, i heard some ferocious squawking this morning...the kind the girls make when they are unhappy and uncomfortable when it comes to getting the eggs out. fierce and i went to investigate. they had nested themselves next to each other, by the fence, under the juniper bushes, in cozy little spots and they were ready to lay some eggs. fierce nosed them back to the coop and i assessed the coop situation to find out why they moved their operation, put more straw down and let them back to it. later there was some scuffling as two dogs and a chicken were fighting over a shell. turns out someone (gotta be big bird by the size and color of the shell) was still determined to lay her egg in the bushes...and then one of the mutts found it and made lunch of it. such drama around these parts. i locked the girls back in their pen (their very luxurious pen) and i hope they will get back in the coop-egg-laying habit.
just think how juicy these stories will be when i have a flock of 300 on my farm/yoga retreat center. see you all there!
and just to prove that all is not dog & chicken drama around here, this was the scene last week. which is also the same week in which l'il red found her way onto the kitchen sink for the first time. they are getting gutsy!
over and out (as my pa likes to say)
the girls haven't been using their nesting box, instead just making a nest in the straw on the floor of the coop (those weirdos). liz must have cleaned out the coop over the weekend while i was gone. anyhow, the girls must have been flustered since their floor-nest was gone with the clean out with not quite enough straw laid down to make a good nest (heaven forbid they hop back up to the perfect nesting box!)...chickens are really good at panic-ing. anyhow, i heard some ferocious squawking this morning...the kind the girls make when they are unhappy and uncomfortable when it comes to getting the eggs out. fierce and i went to investigate. they had nested themselves next to each other, by the fence, under the juniper bushes, in cozy little spots and they were ready to lay some eggs. fierce nosed them back to the coop and i assessed the coop situation to find out why they moved their operation, put more straw down and let them back to it. later there was some scuffling as two dogs and a chicken were fighting over a shell. turns out someone (gotta be big bird by the size and color of the shell) was still determined to lay her egg in the bushes...and then one of the mutts found it and made lunch of it. such drama around these parts. i locked the girls back in their pen (their very luxurious pen) and i hope they will get back in the coop-egg-laying habit.
just think how juicy these stories will be when i have a flock of 300 on my farm/yoga retreat center. see you all there!
and just to prove that all is not dog & chicken drama around here, this was the scene last week. which is also the same week in which l'il red found her way onto the kitchen sink for the first time. they are getting gutsy!
over and out (as my pa likes to say)
1.6.09
just past midnight + $3
it is just past midnight and finally cool enough to feel the comfort of summer-time goose bumps. fierce has finally moved inside, i assume because the house has cooled enough for her black-furred body to handle the temperature. i don't remember it being this warm and dry here this early...but when it comes to weather i tend to lump entire months into the rain gear or the sun gear category for the bike or the farm, and that's hardly scientific. i am also not complaining. i am happy to have multiple tan lines and peeling skin on my pink-ish nose on the last day of may.
at least the summer is here to make one thing feel certain. the rest of me is in the juggle, the quiet, the anxious of the not-here, not-there of moving at the end of summer. the close of yoga school, the not knowing how long my job will continue, finding the sweet joy in dear friendships without allowing the fear of loss to creep in, appreciation of the huge back yard, collecting chicken feathers and eggs. to exist with a hightened awareness of impermenence: to embrace without clinging, to appreciate without grasping. but really...isn't that all that life is anyway, i just feel it in an exagerated sense because i am going to make a big geographical transition? striking impermanence or evolutionary change, nothing stays the same forever and this is an excellent reminder to live with that notion. my practice: stay with the longing to be present: sitting on the plywood deck with a cup of tea watching the dogs watch the chickens who watch for worms. soaking in the sun and the moment and the knowing that these glorious portland moments are not permanent. that these moments are not because of portland, but because this is just the space i get to be in now. that all of this can be packed into my snail shell heart and will follow me wherever i walk. to have the hope and open heart that whatever comes next offers the same promise, just different packaging (and a much small backyard...sans chickens, really...i'm not attached...i swear).
i am taking baby steps in the packing process. that way the transition of all my stuff (mainly kitchen equiptment, art supplies, clothes and outdoor gear [probably in that order by volume]) into boxes can be about organization and remembering and cleaning out (purging!) and not hurried dumping just to get it all out of dodge on time. i have piles of books for powells, clothes that will get rejected from buffalo exchange, a goodwill bag and borrowed items to return to friends. today i bought $3 worth of ziplock bags to organize sewing and craft supplies. there is something so refreshing about combing through everything i own and asking, "do i need this?" which then turns into "what does this mean to me?"and possibly, "when will i ever need powdered graphite lock lubricant?". how refreshing to head off knowing that i won't be taking anything i don't need, and i don't just mean the stuff i get to unpack and put on a shelf. the things i need surprise me: a journalist's notebook with my nana's handwriting on the first page, cut out horoscopes and fortune cookie fortunes, fabric scraps, chandelier crystals, twelve different pairs of scissors, ceramic tiles, two white-bound copies of the catcher in the rye, rusted paperclips, a heart full of love for all the intangibles i am blessed to be surrounded by here (read: dear friends, teachers, yoga studio, landscape, agriculture, lifestyle). a heart that is full.
purnamadah purnamidam purnaat purnamudachyate purnasya purnaamadaya purnameva vashishyate.
at least the summer is here to make one thing feel certain. the rest of me is in the juggle, the quiet, the anxious of the not-here, not-there of moving at the end of summer. the close of yoga school, the not knowing how long my job will continue, finding the sweet joy in dear friendships without allowing the fear of loss to creep in, appreciation of the huge back yard, collecting chicken feathers and eggs. to exist with a hightened awareness of impermenence: to embrace without clinging, to appreciate without grasping. but really...isn't that all that life is anyway, i just feel it in an exagerated sense because i am going to make a big geographical transition? striking impermanence or evolutionary change, nothing stays the same forever and this is an excellent reminder to live with that notion. my practice: stay with the longing to be present: sitting on the plywood deck with a cup of tea watching the dogs watch the chickens who watch for worms. soaking in the sun and the moment and the knowing that these glorious portland moments are not permanent. that these moments are not because of portland, but because this is just the space i get to be in now. that all of this can be packed into my snail shell heart and will follow me wherever i walk. to have the hope and open heart that whatever comes next offers the same promise, just different packaging (and a much small backyard...sans chickens, really...i'm not attached...i swear).
i am taking baby steps in the packing process. that way the transition of all my stuff (mainly kitchen equiptment, art supplies, clothes and outdoor gear [probably in that order by volume]) into boxes can be about organization and remembering and cleaning out (purging!) and not hurried dumping just to get it all out of dodge on time. i have piles of books for powells, clothes that will get rejected from buffalo exchange, a goodwill bag and borrowed items to return to friends. today i bought $3 worth of ziplock bags to organize sewing and craft supplies. there is something so refreshing about combing through everything i own and asking, "do i need this?" which then turns into "what does this mean to me?"and possibly, "when will i ever need powdered graphite lock lubricant?". how refreshing to head off knowing that i won't be taking anything i don't need, and i don't just mean the stuff i get to unpack and put on a shelf. the things i need surprise me: a journalist's notebook with my nana's handwriting on the first page, cut out horoscopes and fortune cookie fortunes, fabric scraps, chandelier crystals, twelve different pairs of scissors, ceramic tiles, two white-bound copies of the catcher in the rye, rusted paperclips, a heart full of love for all the intangibles i am blessed to be surrounded by here (read: dear friends, teachers, yoga studio, landscape, agriculture, lifestyle). a heart that is full.
purnamadah purnamidam purnaat purnamudachyate purnasya purnaamadaya purnameva vashishyate.
argh. harumph.
details, schmetails. i really want to be able to e-mail photos to the blog...but blogger is not letting me do such things and i don't know how to fix it. that i can handle...what i can't handle (well, i can handle it...it's just frustrating!) is the impossibility of sending a real e-mail to a real person at blogger who can answer my question. what's a girl to do?
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