movements of small things

i was driving today, in the rain, and the hills are so green...it looks like a child's cowlicked hair, full of movement and whorls...the deciduous, laced and weaving between the evergreens,unruly and standing straight up in the air. the sheep, white against the fields, with their breed marks,standing red on their woolly backs, a true scarlet letter. they all looked so droopy out there, not sure if it was the rain, or their impending pregnancies, or just because they are sheep, but they still looked beautiful to me. although i love the sun, there is little as striking as an oregon spring with it's dark, ominous skies, and the emerald world below it...speckled with animals, flowers, it throbs with life and freshness, and sparkles if the tiniest sliver of sunshine hits it. we do, I believe, live in God's country.

the gentleness of nothing

there are days when nothing comes gently. and there are days when there is a gentle nothingness...not the sad nothingness...but the quiet of it, which is really quite something. i struggled today with ego and pride, and then it hit me that decisions that were made were made with a higher purpose than mine. And things have a way of edging into place, quietly and gently sometimes, as if nothing at all has changed, but it has...the same way your children grow, gently and quietly, hidden by tantrums and sand in their crevices, cheerios in the light fixtures, but then, suddenly they are bigger....this is how life is, so often, the loud parts distract us from the small snuggling in of things...life's way of pretending to yawn whilst it drops it's arm around our shoulders at the movies...suddenly it's there, the weight of it all heavy and warm and certain.

long day pondering

i think perhaps this blog is misnamed...of course, maybe not. i started it when some friends and i really did have martini playdates...now it's mainly just me, tootling around my yard, surrounded by grubby and adorable, inquisitive blond boys, sometimes holding a vodka tonic, more often, a diet coke, or water with lemon. i'm watching my chickens grow. watching my growing children watching them and the world with wonder. every day my youngest demonstrates a new word, a new daredevil act, or best yet, a new act of love and gentleness. every day my older son, surprises me with insight, and yesterday decided no more kisses. i do anyway, a little because it sends him into gales of burbly giggles, but mostly, because i need to. i need him to need me still, even as i let him learn who he is. and i need that soft baby skin to yield to my mommyness. he's too 4, too fast. i watch the seasons change, feel me change...back and forth and back again. participate in my life as fully as i can. i do know it's a short one. the biggest heartbreak, but joy, also, of life is it's fleeting quality. i am sad to see sadness all around me, when we could be lifting our faces to the sun, breathing and going a new direction. i think about children and food and sustainability and love....and how to make these loves of mine last and feel cherished. how to use these powers for good. i'll get back to you on that...

Urban Farmer

this time of year my thoughts and actions turn to the garden. every year i dream of feeding my family from my garden, with our own chickens and even bees (though, allergic to stings). I flip thru dog earred books and seed catalogs, my nails and the dry spots on my fingers are stained with soil. i bake bread, i bake pies, i stock up on canning supplies early....and then we have to move. this year, i'm gonna finally do it successfully. i've got good soil. i've got no plans to move (can't anyway), i've got a chicken coop in the planning stage and feelers out for hens. i have indoor starts planted. garden bed is turned and ready to be supplemented with farm poo. these things, not the things i think i want, are what really make me happy. feeding my family, watching my sons play in the dirt, finding worms and making "yucky pie". the real me comes out in spring, and again in the fall. the seasons for growth and for hunkering down and nurturing. nothing excites me more than a sprout..than a vegetable or fruit growing on the vine i planted.
i just watched a bubble bee peek in my window, zoom past the cat, tempting him madly and zip off...even on these stormy days, spring is trying to emerge. it's trying to be here.