Saturday, January 30, 2010
.almost.
.woven.
Here is the final woven fabric, in all it's glory. I made enough to wear two cowls and three pairs of fingerless mittens! I might end up selling at least one pair of mittens and a cowl. I'll keep you all posted. I'm sitting down right now to sew together all three pairs of fingerless mittens. I'm not quite sure about how I'll approach the cowls, so I'll just do the mittens first.
Friday, January 29, 2010
.winner.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
.press.
Monday, January 25, 2010
.hiatus.
Ashley (my sister) and I each made a batch of chili last Tuesday. It's so nice to cook together. It's like bringing some home to each other, kind of like we're channeling mom, but making our own way. In my little kitchen. One batch was made with venison that my dad harvested. I had a phase when I though it was terrible that he hunted the poor little deer. But, I'm more grown up now and I realize that his actions are so much more noble than the meat we eat from tortured, sick animals raised in CAFOs. If you haven't watched "Food, Inc." do so immediately. We all need to see the way that most of our food is made (manufactured is a better word), so that we can make more informed decisions. This summer, I will preserve so much more. I will cook all the time. I will volunteer at a local farm. I will truly participate in the creation of at least some of my food. I have started reading "Independence Days" by Sharon Astyk. I've only read the introduction, but I can tell I will love this book. She has already talked about how cooking and eating together is one of the biggest ways in which we can foster community and friendships. It's intimate. It's beautiful. Chelsea and I cook together a lot. It's wonderful. I love it. I wish we could do it more.
I also saw Chelsea and Grace last Tuesday. We didn't cook together, but we ate together. We ate food from a local deli called Simple Sandwich in Plymouth. Their sandwiches and soups are so good. They make them every day. They are awesome people. She is growing up so fast. I remember when she was much smaller and didn't even remember me between visits. Now, she runs to me and fills my heart with joy. As does her mother.
The incinerator was running the other day. I can't believe that it wasn't voted out when there was a chance. Such poison.
We got seeds for Rizzo. She lives on them now, instead of sand. She was eating the sand and it kept making her bloated. Suddenly, she would be really fat one day. Strange. I love the way the seeds look in there. So much texture. She is getting so big. I love the way her front legs look like a bulldog's. Bulldog Rizzo.
Monday, January 18, 2010
.more.
Friday, January 15, 2010
.300.
.celebration.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
.stepping.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
.object.
also, i got these books. i can't wait to expand my knowledge on preserving and gardening with the intention of eating and doing as much as i can with my own hands. here's to more jam and preserves and, this year i'm determined, pickling!
.melting.
chelsea loves wendell berry. she introduced him to me and i, too, love him now. here is a poem of his to which she linked me a while ago:
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.
this pushes back the cynical thoughts that i collect over the days, the weeks. brings back the hope on which i have to live if i am ever to do anything, to be anything, worth doing and being. it makes me feel like i will be able to fall asleep before 2:30 tonight.
the image is mine from the vegetable plot adventure
Friday, January 8, 2010
.oops.
hello again!