Friday, August 31, 2012

chickens, podcasts, and chainsaws.

Yeah. It's an interesting mix over here today.

Yesterday was such a good day. A great day. Not because it went well, but because I started the day at 4 am, listening to Jon Bernie. With a cup of tea and a dark sky with bright planets, it was - glorious. And by glorious, I mean that I cried a lot, in a good way. I am absolutely in love with my new ipod. In one tiny little square, I have an entire sangha.

The 4 to 6 am time slot impacts the rest of my day so much. The last month or so, those hours have been filled with nightmares, and with me being too exhausted to get up to avoid them. But this week, I've (mostly) been up. Listening.

The goodness helped me through a massive chicken challenge. Well, a challenge to my stress levels, anyway. My one good, thriving garden is just starting to have tomatoes come in. This, after losing all of the squash, cukes, and zukes to a massive bug infestation. I just planted seeds for fall crops. And. We have meat birds out there. By "we," I mean the person who owns the farm, and supposedly, I will be receiving a few birds in exchange for all the veg we've shared. The chickens free range. They are not supposed to. Containment of birds is the owner's job; I did as much as I could do without it being my property. Anyway - I don't even feel like bitching about it much. Just that yesterday, all 26 birds were inside my garden fence, having uprooted some tomatoes to take dust baths. Having eaten all the beet greens, newly planted seeds, and lots of tomatoes. Not their fault - they're chickens. They were hungry and thirsty, and they found what they needed. So while I was quite angry, I also noticed the calm in there, the post-sangha calm. I also noticed how sad I felt, and why. Nothing here is my place. The birds, the gardens, this home I've lived in for seven years, the spaces and places I move in. 

I came home and took Bo to the beach. Found loads of heart rocks. Felt peaceful and calm and sad. Felt thankful and happy to be here at the water with our very happy dog. Found wild apple trees loaded with apples that I will go back and forage today. It was a good day, all of it in its way.

Today, I woke up exhausted, and put off Jon Bernie til noon. The power company has been outside my windows all day, chainsawing down trees and scrub growth. This neighborhood has changed so much lately. More traffic, more noise, more crime. Fewer trees. The sadness has stayed from yesterday, and the calm replaced by more grief. It's alright. I feel, I don't know, more alright with the rhythm of it. It's more leave-taking, seeing the end of here circling around. It means I am weepy today.

I will be a weepy commando in just a few minutes. A friend and I are introducing her not-quite-6-month old daughter to the finer skills of trespassing and foraging. Wild apples and weepiness. That's the news from right here.



  1. "peaceful and calm and sad." SOunds like you are doing good care-taking of yourself, getting peaceful and getting to where you need to be (the beach)

    Over here, I am weepy too. Agitated, and wondering about my own patterns and if they are serving me.
    Weepy about taking A. to school and He. SHould. Be. Here. He just should. It is not all right that he is not, no matter how much time goes by and what other distractions place themselves before me.
    Solidarity, fellow wid.

    1. Imagine that over here, I do the heart pound-peacesign solidarity motion right back at you, because I did, and I do. <3
      And - I found some elderberries.