South of the Bridgers

a meditation

2010-04-25T10:23:00.000-07:00

Today I give thanks
for every life that has touched my own
for each molecule, atom, particle and wave
as it has moved through me.

I give thanks
that he said
"You look like hell" and
"You surprised me... I never thought you'd amount to much."
that she said
"Go on, write."

I thank tears, paper and flame
the small warm hand in my own
the arms that held me
the vastness behind those questioning eyes

Croonings and shrieks of unseen birds
the wounded and the whole

Mosquitoes and bats, seeds and finches
the mouse I released into the yard this morning
the cat that had left it corralled in a box

The stone in my shoe
the bone in my foot
the juice of strawberries
staining my chin

This day

2010-04-17T19:15:00.000-07:00

My goals for today were to finish cleaning the floor so I could have a studio day, and to take a bike ride.

I had breakfast sitting on the east deck in the morning sun. I was listening to a streaming radio show from Lincoln NE (I do that to feel more connected to my son and family) when I realized sandhill cranes were calling from the creek. I muted the computer and listened, sharing it with BiL who had been inside. After a minute the cranes were silent. I listened to the show again, and again, the cranes began. This time I muted the computer, and even tho the cranes stopped soon after (maybe they heard something crane-like in the banter of the program) I left it off, and enjoyed the rest of my breakfast to chickadee and finch song.

I finished the floor as I listened to streaming NPR from California (again, a link with a son who lives out there). I swept water and mud from the garage and set the fans to dry it (this is swamp season in our garage if we don't stay ahead of it). I got very hungry and ate my lunch. I put in a new load of laundry.

I stepped outside to hang a shirt on the line and have a cup of tea, and I could not bring myself to go inside, even to have a studio day.

I did some repair work, instead, to the fencing that discourages marmots from using the deck for a toilet.

For the first time this spring I got to listen as a light rain fell on our metal roof. No bike riding today, but I don't feel compromised.

I felt very satisfied and very hungry by dinner time. I ate again, watching a movie with BiL.
We also watched our first rainbow of the season.

So much satisfaction in one day.

A call to unwire

2010-01-19T13:41:00.000-08:00

Hmmm.... It has been a voice in my bones lately to become unwired, whatever that means.

I guess I will find out.

My motivation is that being online is severely limited everything else in my experience.

nuff said.

Call me if you like.

Peace, out,
Rox

Movement

2009-11-01T19:09:00.000-08:00

Maybe 'blur' is more accurate.
I am looking back on the past months since my last post, and it really does seem that, but not in a bad way at all. It has been relentlessly rich.

Josh graduated in May, and all my grown boys were here together to celebrate, and as only Josh would do it, his graduation walk took place on the banks of the Boiling River. His closest friends had a fine congrats barbecue for him at their house that night. I learned once again that the emerging generation calls its own shots, sets its own way. And Josh took that another step.

After trips to high places and low in the West, he joined me in a trek to NE in July, and then went on his own quest into the Frank Church Wilderness, where he met himself so to speak (this was his goal) and came out sooner than he had planned, but understanding a greater plan at work, even tho he debates endlessly with that Power.

And while he settled back into Bozeman, and took on the shepherding of this years Bioneers presentation, I was keeping occupied with my heart's work at hospice, and several jouneys with BiL , exploring everything from the lovely Bow River in Banff, Canada, to the low running Gallatin near Belgrade. Bears and guests graced our decks and gave us plenty of stories to share.

It has been quite a summer, surprisingly social for this introvert.

Today BiL and I joined a march in town, demonstrating our strengths in the face of a fear group which is attempting to make a stand here. The march was smooth, the folks enthusiastic, and I saw many faces I knew and many more that I didn't.

I was reviewing my previous post and am musing at where it left off and where this posting begins and ends. Something in that previous post was about reformation .. community... etc.

The synchronicity knocks my socks off at times like this.

Reformation... a rambling

2009-03-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

It is springtime here, and we are in the beginning of a lovely spring snow today. The critter, here, showed up a few days ago just outside of our front yard. It was also seen yesterday by others just up the road. The snow is deeper now, and we are expected to get up to 8 inches today. Having all this soft beauty sure makes impatience for spring greenery subside, at least till the next thaw time. And none of us will complain about the water the snows will provide to the streams, come spring and summer. Well, I guess too much at once would not be an easy way to go, but it is a natural rhythm here. Better to realize that than change it for convenience sake, I think.

Last evening Josh came over for dinner and it was lovely, but we had a humbling experience when we discovered no water from the tap! We were all thinking something wrong with the well, jumping to the most horrendous cause in our minds. It turned out, a toilet had been running awhile and had drained the lines. Once that was resolved, within minutes all was back to normal, all of us appreciating our well water's abundance that much more for it's momentary absence. We watched the last episode of Northern Exposure after that, the one fairly brimming with community love and awareness of decisions that reach out globally.

It got me thinking, about my own cultural upbringing. The tendency to jump to preparation for the worst thinkable problems, when they may never manifest; the idea that you have to be smarter than what comes along or that the world is basically a trap to snare the unwary. My present conscious thought flys in the face of this, yet the form I was raised in keeps coming up, asking to be renewed each time. Maybe this is how true change comes.... with many practices.

Reformation. I remember that word from my Lutheran catechism classes. Funny, my church was born from discontent with the status quo, of brave people willing to risk all to find a better way to be. After many years of their hard won independence, they were fighting off stagnation from familiarity. I was one of the folks who sought other expressions of my faith. My little home town church has renewed itself over the years with a new population of families, with just a few people that I knew in my youth, still there. Living things are good when circulation is freshened. Change of what is familiar can be a very good thing.

My life has really undergone some changes since I last wrote. My time and energy are consumed for the most part with my daily work, and I wonder at times if that is a good thing. I keep repeating my efforts at balance in my life, of creativity and service. I am still practicing at that. I've not yet perfected it.

As I write, I'm watching the snow swirl outside, the juncos dancing along the railings, kicking the crushed sunflower and nyger seeds from under the snow, the crossbills and chickadees jockeying for position on the birdfeeders. As I often do, I ponder what I might glean for my own soul from what I see out there. Persistance? Community? Doing what you are born to do?

And then, as my recent teacher said, sometimes the sound of rain simply means that its raining.

Into the Chill (how my cold hands n feet stayed warm)

2008-12-14T06:45:00.000-08:00

(Disclaimer: the links are for those who want to know what gear I am talking about... I have accumulated it over the years, and bought most of the pieces on clearance sales. If I were shopping today I might try Campmor. They often have bargain prices.)

Yesterday at 3pm a good new habit kicked in... the urge to go for a walk hit me.

The temp was a single digit. 1.... below. This is how to stay warm: I slipped another long john (cuddleduds) over my silks, swapped my jeans for insulated ski bibs, and added a light hoodie to my thermal top. I slipped a second insole into my McMurdos (I got them a size too big to allow for extra layers).

My head warmed with a bacalava, the hoodie, and a railroad cap, I put up the hood of my winter coat and put on my toaster mittens, and I was ready. BiL and I grabbed our hiking poles along with some water (just in case) and walked into the fine snowfall. We had not gotten far when BiL went back for an extra top layer. I paced to get my heart rate up while I waited. He rejoined me, and we headed along Pistol Road. My vague goal was the mailbox, 2.5 miles away, but neither of us knew if even one of us would make it. As we walked along, I realized I was enjoying my self-created warmth all the way down to my toes! This is really unusual for me... I am always the one cramming toe warmers into my boots when I ski.

BiL had decided to keep walking with me beyond his usual turn around point. What I did not know was that as I was adding base layers, he simply had worn his jeans. He kept saying "keep talking to me, Rox, and if I don't think about it, I can walk farther." The farther we walked, the greater the depth of ice on the road. And, not unexpectedly, by the time we got to the pasture, we were feeling a light wind, but that's all it took to ache any exposed skin.

BiL's titanium knee was hurting with each step by this time, but there was nothing to do but go on once we crossed the tracks. We picked up the pace as much as we dared on the ice, got the mail, and hurried back over the tracks... we DID NOT want to get stuck by the trains that regularly stop there to share the pass's rail space with oncoming engines and their loads. Thank God, no trains came and we cleared them. The winter sun, already dim behind the snowclouds, was beginning to set, dusk coming on.

In the eerie half-light, a deep point on my hip told me about the dropping temperature with every step, even tho I did not feel cold at all. I was breaking a sweat beneath all my layers and felt very comfortable otherwise. I could only imagine the discomfort of my honey, several paces ahead of me most of the time, hurrying to relief that he knew waited next to our woodstove.

We made it, and my thoughts along the way kept going in amazement to those who have lived in these conditions with so much less comfort clothing. Our plains ancestors, and those who lived through these Montana winters in so many years past, were not taking walks for exercise or self-challenge. They were out there, finding water, hunting, feeding livestock, and keeping the home fires burning daily, to bring about a future. From the earliest residents in their lodges, to the settlers and miners, I thought about what a short step of time it was from their tracks to mine. How well would I survive day to day without the ease of the well, the furnace, the grocery store, and the car? Would I? While we baked pizza, we checked the thermometer... 6 below. We'd been out 2 hours.

When we had come in, we had brought a basket of wood up with us for the fire. I thought I would keep it burning through the night, but the fresh air must have relaxed me to the core, as I got the best night's sleep in recent memory. Just six hours after I went to bed I got up feeling fully rested, and built the first fire of the -14 morning.

And here I sit, looking out at fine snow continuing to drift down, anticipating Christmas shopping with a high forecast at -1. The shopping is BiL's idea. I know what gear I will be wearing.

Tree of Life project

2008-11-30T17:30:00.000-08:00

Check it out... the close to final pics of all that stained glass I have been working on:)

White dreams

2008-11-28T19:10:00.000-08:00

BiL has twice had the experience of reading his fiction book, and looking up and noting that what he is reading is happening outside. Tonight it was the wind, coming up. Oh good. He's reading about a blizzard. Hey, I'm for it.

Our autumn, except for a bountiful October snowstorm, has skimped on the white stuff. It makes me get the creepy crawlies, smelling the air for snow as if that will make it come. I have this gnawing feeling that it should be well snowed here by now, but the only consistent snowcover is on our driveway and on the upper roads. The slopes are spotty, more than half the ground with the tall brown grasses exposed. Hunting season has been expanded to give hunters the advantage on the elk still lingering at the high altitudes. Temperatures are cold enough... nighttime lows in the teens, highs in the 30's, but the moisture goddess is holding back, teasing us with clouds or hiding out altogether, chased by the the sun of the shortening days.

I should be thankful, a drive to Nebraska shortly in my future. I'll be delivering the stained glass piece I have been working on for so long, as well as tying up the final ends (I hope) of Dad's estate and (best of all) seeing some friends and family on the plains. I have driven that way, my knuckles white with tension on the icy stretches of Buffalo and Sheridan, and I am happy to think I might cruise along safely on dry roads this time, coming and going.

But here, at home, a little snowpack on the road leaves me wanting more. The wind is still dancing outside. 'Time now to bring in some more wood and stoke up the fire.

Thanks

2008-11-23T21:50:00.001-08:00

I had a rare time of thanks Friday morning. I was doing a bit of reading (Lessons in Truth... Cady) and I was moved to put the book down, lean back in my chair and cast my eyes to the pines in the east. I started going along, remembering each of the patients I had been working with that week, visualizing them in light and praying thanks for God's perfection within each one.

Whew! It was a powerful exercise, and one that I simply was led to do. 'One of those profound moments, you know? What was really precious to me, was that the chain of focus continued, moving along like prayer beads, from one face in my mind to the next, and it did not stop when I finished my patients. It went on to my co-workers, my sweet BiL, my sons, grandchildren, sister, family gone on, friends, etc.

I have noticed that when I let myself go deeply into the prayer time, it takes on a life of its own, pulsates and flows. When it does this it forms a presence of thanks. I don't know that it gets better than that. Not from this end, anyway.

So here you go, each one of you (and you know who you are)... the wonder and delight of the Divine in you blesses me endlessly. I thank you for it. I mean, I really, deeply thank you for every word, thought, movement, dream, breath and more that you ever have or will share with me.

This Thanksgiving, if you eat, may every bite and taste be well with you. If you serve, may you receive 10 times the love you put forth.

Days of the Dead

2008-11-02T17:47:00.000-08:00

I don't get to church every Sunday, but today was one that I did. Beginning the day this way did what I think community worship does at its best... sets the pace for the rest of the day.

Our minister spoke on Dec. 22, 2012, the day which will follow the day currently being discussed with a degree of foreboding. He is really pretty excited about it, as the more he studies these things (sacred geometry, quantum physics, bioscience, etc.) the more potential, and thus hope, he sees, and listening to him it is easy to catch his enthusiasm. This week I even took notes... this guy covers too much ground in each talk for me to remember it all by ear.

We had the traditional first Sunday of the month potato bake, and even tho those taters did not get fully cooked, they were edible and the company was good. I got 3 extras and took them to Josh and his roomies (I knew Josh was studying hard today and would not have much time to eat).

I had ideas about going up to the cliff to the east and praying about the nation when I got home, but a rain was just beginning and instead, I did my praying from the shelter of our house here. BiL is gone today and it is unusually quiet here, so after that I napped a bit, and then got up and turned on the the internet, going over some emails I'd not had time to look deeply into earlier.

One of them was about the Children's Global Peace Project. http://www.cgpp.org/
It really touched my heart, and now, as the rain is coming down hard through the darkness outside, I feel like I have invested this day the best way I could, bringing my attention to community, to Spirit, to hope.

I have been reading "Lessons in Truth" this week, too, getting back to a daily meditation time. Why is it so easy to let what really matters slip under the weight of daily lists and errands?

One of the other things mentioned in the message in church this morning was the following of Halloween (all about fear) by All Hallow's Day (all about our spiritual helpers) and the Day of the Dead (all about remembering the gifts of our ancesters, the wisdom, the deeds, etc.)
And here is an interesting idea... that when we read the writings of one passed on, we 'reincarnate' what made them tick.

Wow. An idea, rethought, refreshed. Now that is a worthy thing to do with a worthy thought. Maybe I will find this week a little less challenging to do what lasts.

Peace, y'all.

Vote.

Fall ramblings

2008-10-26T23:15:00.000-07:00

This is going to be very short... a list of things enjoyed over the weekend:
Went to Livingston, came home with a cat (a tortoise shell, 4 yrs old, named Meara) and a locally worthy bike (Specialized Rock Hopper named Gypsy)
Chopped the rest of the pallet of wood to size, loaded lots on the deck, the rest down below
Repotted plants, revamped bath area, and several kitchen drawers
Got to talk with my precious ones (sons, daughter in love, and grandkiddos)
Played with cat a bunch
Took my maiden ride on the bike, east on Woodchuck road
Listened to the chuggles of the stream
Was amazed at the crisp chill of air
Was equally amazed at the Hoary Comma butterfly that settled in the sawdust

And so it goes

2008-10-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

With over a foot of snow last weekend, and no plowing done from our road association (roads are still too soft to handle the big blade), we have been getting more than our share of exercise, scooping snow, spreading wood ashes and such. When not scooping or hauling wood, I have been working on my masterwork (she teaches me every time I attend her) glass piece, and I am going to attempt a photo of that here. You will see some pieces not yet foiled in the upper part of the tree, left side as you look at it. Anyway, just so you know, this has been my venture in art for the past year or so. It actually helps keep me balanced, considering all the world developments.

St. Paul, Minn Sept. 1 2008

2008-09-04T10:15:00.000-07:00

When people wonder what I am so upset about, these are the words that inspire me:

PRISONERS OF THE CAMPS

JULY 1, 1937

MARTIN NIEMOELLER, CHURCH DISSIDENT LEADER, ARRESTED

Martin Niemoeller, one of main opponents of Nazi racial ideology in the Lutheran church and one of the founders of the oppositional "Confessional Church," is arrested. He is sent to the Sachsenhausen concentration camp in 1938 and spends the next seven years in concentration camps. After the war, Niemoeller's condemnation of bystanders to Nazi policies will become a call to early action. His words: "First they came for the Communists, but I was not a Communist - so I said nothing. Then they came for the Social Democrats, but I was not a Social Democrat - so I did nothing. Then they came for the trade unionists, but I was not a trade unionist. And then they came for the Jews, but I was not a Jew - so I did little. Then when they came for me, there was no one left who could stand up for me."

As those of you I most love know, I am very angry at the way the Right Wing has seen fit to abuse the constitutional rights of those who do not agree with them at the Royal .... er.... Republican Convention.

Is it surprising or disappointing to you that so little of what is happening is hitting the main news? Well, I guess if there is no glitz, flash, or pizzazz appeal, it doesn't get covered.

The waters, the leaves

2008-06-22T19:01:00.000-07:00

I don't know where spring went. I think it slipped in and away between the last snows and the torrents of rain that have made the rivers swell around here. Walks up the hill draw our eye downward to our feet, our fingers lift the lush leaves of the plants, and we find flurries of tiny blooms that promise an assortment of berries, come the season. A month ago, as I was in Nebraska with my ailing Dad, BiL told me of a sighting of a wolf and a golden eagle on the same afternoon.
I might have known the signs, as I might have known the signs of my Dad's passing, but was I in denial, that I did not see? The lessened eating, the determination on his part that he would "never get out of here," the seeing of things he could not explain.... I thought it was all from the infection, not pre-death.
He passed, in the earliest hours of the morning following his birthday party. (He'd told my sister that it wasn't much of a party.)
From then on life has blurred, I often lose track of what day it is, I hurry along on one day, collapse inward the next.
Walks on the hills have helped me tremendously, as have a couple journeys on water in my kayak. BiL is steadfast in standing by me, whatever my demeanor at the moment.
The eagle and wolf were doing the work of cleaning up a mule deer carcass, the doe apparently having fallen of old age. I was up there today, admiring the bones, the darkened flesh, the empty eye sockets. It is graceful. It is in balance with earth, as I seek to be. A storm is trying to birth from the west but I think it is drawing north now.
A couple days this week a small hawk came and sat on our front railing. Both times I was the only one to see it. From the size, I think it to be a sharp shinned hawk. To see it up close is stunning.
If I did not believe in the power of our web of existence, I would think I was going crazy right now. Instead I mark the unique and rare as welcome companions to this time of transition.

Time off

2008-03-30T20:39:00.001-07:00

It is, after all, the weekend, and I have to retrain myself every time I get a day off from the work I do, the work that is so much from my heart. I remember long ago, experiencing job burn out, closing my eyes to sleep and seeing the steam and water pipes of the packing house behind my eyelids before dozing off. This week it took a full day for me to drop the emotional link to the folks I get to work with.

Before I left work Friday I was already wishing I could stay longer to see a couple of people in the hospital one last time. I knew better. Yet I felt torn. I could not stop thinking about them through dinner with friends, nor through a concert later in the evening. The next morning I felt a little better. Sore joints in my hands told me I needed time off to physically recover from the rigors of the week. I was not able to be very productive, and that's fine. I realize that I need to let down time be down time, and not try to cram a days worth of cleaning into it to justify it. I did some light dusting and some serious art work. I read. All of this helped me 'let go'.

Today was even better. I slept in and it felt wonderful and nourishing. Again, I put in some glassworking time, and later in the day, was able to take a snowshoe walk with BiL. I always grumble a bit as I am putting on the gear, but once I get over the inertia (as BiL calls it) I am always delighted to be crunching along on the snow. Letting my eyes refocus on the distant snow covered hills and peaks relieves my stress in indescribable ways.

Tomorrow we may even ski. BiL tends to be an obsessive worker in his teaching, but he is also pretty incredible at knowing when to manage some break time. My thanks to him.

Live well.

2008-03-29T20:36:00.000-07:00

I can hardly believe it has been so long since I've last checked in here. Wow. I am married now. That's huge news. But in reviewing my last entry, I want to write that I am continuing to learn from my hospice and palliative care peeps.

Imagine this, that you suddenly see the end of your personal tunnel. What do you do? Who do you call upon? And how does all of this touch those who are close to you? The answers are as many as there are individuals. Some of you reading this already have more than theoretical answers. For the rest of us, we can only suppose.

More to come.

Surfacing into the yellow leaves

2007-10-10T14:13:00.000-07:00

Our household has been alive with swirling energies, as my bodyworker cohorts would say. The winds these days seem to mirror the movement of furnishings inside our home,necessary to make way for our flooring re-dos. Is it just coincidence that as our household foundations have been renewed, I've been experiencing the need to reaffirm my inner grounding?

I work with the ones close to the end of their lives by choice. The past week has brought transition for more than one of them, and today I am feeling the grief. I know it is an expectation of working with this population, yet each time it hits, I am awed, amazed. How incredible the quality of connection these ones have, despite the body's weariness. I am overwhelmed with the preciousness of the time I was able to get to know them and be with them, not because it has come to an end, but with the experience of how deeply even this short time together impacts me now.

I know that, for my own inner protection, I could choose to distance myself from these people as I work with them, but I deliberately choose instead to meet them with the same vulnerability and clarity with which they greet me. Yes, it pains more deeply that way to say good-bye, but I would not want it any other way. They receive the gift of presence that I offer with no reservations. They inspire me to do the same.

So today I turn inward, seeking quiet to better hear all they taught me. I'll walk and let the golds, yellows, reds, and greens minister to me, drawing me back up again.

Holy smokes:doing unto others

2007-08-06T15:50:00.000-07:00

The fires are burning outstate, but we are safe here. I know none of us are alone in our experiences, and am more convinced of that lately. To explain, here are some excerpts from recent emails between me and another soul searcher:

This one is from me....
"Last night I went to a neighborhood dinner, and found out that a poacher (uncaught) had slain and taken the head of our only resident bull moose several months ago. I was feeling anything but considerate and gentle! So I told BiL last night that I was going to put my will out there, that the poacher be blinded and crippled to 'correct' this human flaw to the earth. I knew I could not bring the moose back, but I wanted to do what I could towards stopping the poacher from ever doing such a thing again. BiL tried to talk me down from my high horse, saying that teaching is another way of correction and that anyone can learn a new way; anyone can change their ways. I doubted there was hope that such a person could really change their ways.

This morning, I talked with Phillip our minister while we were setting up the booth ... and I asked what his response to all that is. He said I was right in asking the earth (that's where I got the 'correction' idea vs the 'justice' idea that originally vexed me when I first heard a rumor about a moose killing a couple weeks ago... I went out and stood barefoot on the ground and asked it what the answer was, and in its way it said "correction, not justice").

He also said wisdom I ask is wiser than us, and to stipulate the details of the correction is probably not gonna help. In fact, he said, and this is what really got to me and I'd love to know what you think about it..... What I would be stating to the universe with my "blind/cripple intention" was the belief that learning can only be done in the most maiming and excruciating ways. Hmmmmmm..... so even tho I was stipulating that I would want no harm be done to anyone but the perp, I would still be setting something into motion that I really would not want to happen. I think he's right. I never thought about it that way.

So tonight .... I am putting forth the intention of the correction being done, as soon as possible, in the wisdom of the earth.

Now, if you choose to put any time into this, what do you think about the story above? What are your views? I have a feeling I am gonna get some teaching about right and wrong being illusions, after all, and yet, we are here by choice, and aren't we supposed to know some rules that apply to all? Or is it all really about letting go? But come on, how can you let go of everything yet still say you love the earth and all her critters???? And the biggest trick of all is to love the poacher and not his actions, right? Or is it?? "

My email guru responded:
" This is just my observation, coming from me where I stand these days. The first answer is, this Moose killing is not about what it says about the poacher, but what it says about you, especially your response. In other words there is nothing going on outside of you/us, the reason we are here is not to love and protect our mother earth, but to become fully conscious. In other words your killer instinct has been revealed, part of the real you has been revealed, so you are not only this sweet loving, kind, helpful, considerate little girl, but you are also this witch who casts evil spells upon people you dislike.

This is not even about you loving the poacher and hating his crime, this is about your true nature being revealed and seeing that in the grander scheme of things, there is really no difference between you and the poacher, no separation, you are one and the same person in that you both have unconscious sides to you where you do things without really understanding the broader implications to your actions.

I don't think we are here to become good or enlightened by choosing the correct path, join the right group, practice healing arts, we are here to experience. I put a period after that word for a reason. We are here to experience. We are here to experience.

Has that line sunk in yet? Through the natural process of experience we become enlightened, but never good. Enlightenment is the perpetual learning process we go through until eternity. Good and bad are just earth bound polarities, they do not exist outside of each other, they are one and the same thing.

The poacher did nothing bad on the cosmic scale, he/she experienced the poaching and learned and still is learning from that experience, it was supposed to happen so that he/she could see a part of themselves and so you could respond and see a part of yourself as well as countless others.

.....Oh and how much of your curse would be revenge? and if you go through with it be sure to dig two graves after enacting it. "

Me again.... so while I was feeling like I'd just been given a breath of understanding, he flies this next one by me:

Again Rox, this is a great lesson for you and just for a new perspective for you I took your paragraph about the curse and changed it for you to see what it would feel like to read it that way, here it is,

So I told BiL last night that I was going to put my will out there, that me and the poacher be blinded and crippled to 'correct' this human flaw to the earth. I knew I could not bring the moose back, but I wanted to do what I could towards stopping the poacher from ever doing such a thing again and from me ever wanting to put a curse on anyone again and I knew that this would do just that, teach us both a good lesson. And the great thing is that after we are both crippled and blinded, we can both get electric wheel chairs, meet in a clearing and have a demo derby, trying to find each other so we can crash into each other to show which one of us is ultimately right. Bil could film it and it would at the very least win top honors as the America's funniest home video. If one or both of you were killed, it might even win the Darwinian award.

We have to laugh at this kind of thing Rox, because we humans are such wingdings in our humaness sometimes. If we take it too serious we end up creating even more karma.

See, there is no separation. Putting a curse on a poacher is like putting a curse on the entire world.

I think about all the mental pictures I created over my lifetime, secret mental pictures of people who I think have wronged me, getting their just deserts. This was done in my subconscious, secretly in the back of my head. The thing is that that's no different from what you were contemplating. It's just another atom bomb being tossed into the cosmic pond to see what ripples it makes, thinking we are not living in that pond, but we are.

Try not to get down on yourself or the poacher, because he/she did you a big favor revealing a side of yourself you were unaware of before. I don't try to be good or right anymore, it's futile. I just watch myself closer to see what other side of me I was unaware of.

Wow. I wasn't thinking of my 'correction intention' as a curse, but really, what else is it?

I know that every reader of this blog does not agree with the principle of 'experience' being the point of life, but I tell ya, what my friend wrote rang SO true for me! I have always had the idea in the back of my mind that whatever I do or think will come back and affect those I love.... and I think he is right. I mean, I would be fooling myself to think that I could 'will my way' out of what my intention (you can certainly read that as blessing or curse) would do in the big picture. Like the pond, if it affects part, it affects the whole. There is no getting around it.

This really brings home the Do unto others as you would have done unto you" teaching of Christ. Have I ever thought of myself as having a killer side? A curse throwing side? Nope, but I do believe the power of thought (Christ spoke of people committing adultery or murder in their hearts being as potent as the deed itself, and I've always thought that statement applied to the validity and power of thought). And now I think I get it. I think my friend is right. It really does matter that I pay attention to my response to what is going on. And I can truly thank the stupid moose poacher for bringing this all to light. He is not the first individual that has shown me my sharp edges, and I doubt he will be the last. I just am thankfully not in daily practice of coming up against these people, so I loose track of the bigger vision of things.

As my minister Phillip said, I can agree with the wisdom of earth to make her correction in a gentle way, and I can safely add, "expedient".

This feels better to me. What does this have to do with fires? Well, I will not add my intention to potentially make them worse.

What do you think? I'd love to know.

Too much for one life?

2007-07-27T12:05:00.000-07:00

These days, I feel strangely inadequate to hold all the things I'd like to, emotionally. I mean, I know I must be missing people. I write letters and send stuff to people voraciously when I miss them, and I made several trips to the post office in the past week. I've been writing like crazy, too. Nothing serious or marketable but blogging, catching up on my commitment to share our travel stories with folks. I have a marketable idea, but it seems the hardest thing in my world for me to send the query letter.

Perhaps it is this feeling of my world stirring up and me being part of the great wooden spoon. Or shall I say, oar? Anyway, before BiL got here, there was a massive interior repainting that we both are very happy to view each day. But once you make an improvement everything else begins to beg its shoddiness be revamped. The carpets are really looking frayed. My breathing does better in a rugless environment. So now we are looking at replacing the carpeting with wood flooring, and with that, replacing the bathroom carpetings with porcelain (in a stone finish). And the garage cannot be neglected. Its conglomeration of boxes and tools is patiently asking that we put in some shelves to tidy IT up.

I could just say no. But then we'd have that awful un-feng shui thing going on.

Well, BiL at least, seems to be happiest with his life in a sense of evolution. So the house is going along with that. I will, too, for the present. I like to think that a more organized garage will give some of the un-fs features of my glass working room a place to go, too.

I have heard "As above, so below" and in my life it is often "As inner, so outer". My body has dealt with congestion for years, and now that is clearing with wiser diet and clearer air. Is it any wonder that my home is following suit and coming into a more creative order?

I keep reminding myself of that on the days when I feel so overwhelmed that I don't know which contractor I should be calling next.

And all of this comes back to the fact that I cherish it all, every moment of it, really. It's not just the evolving of the household, but the growth and development and downright blooming that I see in all my loves. BiL is facing and managing tremendous changes in his personal and family life, my grand kiddos are each immeasurably beautiful souls, my kids who are no longer kids blow me away with the way they live their lives, the challenges they meet with more grace than I ever thought I had myself after many more years. Even my dad is handling the not so kind things his age has dealt to him with patience and resolve that surprise those of us closest to him.

We have more hot days than we should this time of year, but the nights offer reprieve and when the rains come they are that much more precious and instill thanks in everyone. And Thanks is a great place to be, to pray from, to love from.

The Future Pays a Visit

2007-07-14T12:59:00.000-07:00

Well now.

Not one candidate or rep responded to my queries, except for blanket invitations to join the email lists. I tried that, but found that all I got were pleas for funding. So I am left to peruse the webpages, looking for a spark of inspiration from Obama, Hillary, Edwards... well, anyone alight out there. So far, I am less than impressed.

In the meantime, Tomorrows paid us a visit this week in the form of my darlings from Nebraska. I will leave it to 'Kip' and Julie to fill you in on their entire trip, but here is a bit of what I saw and savored:

The little crew of 5 sailed in late Sunday night with tales of their previous days n nights at the Tetons and a day of Yellowstone. Grizzly and black bear, moose and elk seem to have been drawn to them along the way. I saw pioneering hearts in Julie and DJ to bring the ever moving young ones so far, to set up camp and all that goes with it, giving the kiddos a safe place to rest and play. When I began taking my guys on solo camping journeys, the youngest was, maybe, 9. DJ and Julie's kiddos are 10 months old, 3 and 7. Wow. And their camps are tidy, well stocked, and warm on cold nights. But now, at our house, they could have a break, breakfasts each morning, laundry and showers and baths whenever they wanted. All they had to do was put up with this adoring gran'ma and remind me of the baby proofing I had missed. (I had forgotten to put away my rock friends.)

After a night's sleep (we'd given them the roomy loft for their lodgings), we gave them a breakfast of waffles and other fixings to stoke them up for an afternoon trip to the children's museum (for me, Bre, and Ashton) and a shopping venture for the rest. Breanna used the art table there to create signs for a 'surprise' dinner for her mom and dad and BiL when we went home. We visited the Co-Op before coming home to one of my stir fry meals, and then it was bath and story time. Loving the water so much, the giggles and squeals that come from the bath end of the house are healing to hear.

BiL had a double shift of teaching each day at the U, so was not able to join us as much as he liked. He and I took the (very cool, even on these unusually hot Montana days) basement guest room while they were here, and slept well despite my tendency to stay up too late, enjoying every last minute with the Lincolnites. He was only able to join us at the very ends and beginnings of his days, except for one, and I'll get to that in a paragraph or two. But despite his neverending academics, he always found at least a few minutes to give loving attention to everyone. BiL delights in the endless curiosities of the kiddos, and really regretted not being able to hang out with all of us more.

One of the things I got to do was reacquaint Bre and Ashton ( and introduce baby Riley) to our cat, Mo. They seemed fascinated with her little ways, and once I told them about guarding that she didn't get stuck outside in the heat when we would leave, they were keen on making sure she was inside when she should be. Ashton was so sweet in learning when not to follow Mo, and when to indulge in petting her. Breanna helped me with the bird feeders, alerted me when a bird hit the window, and Ri Ri simply did what a baby does and tried to keep up with everyone, wherever they went. We wonder if Mo thought Riley was a furless cat. She has never seen a crawling baby here before. She gave a few warning meows but she never struck out or nipped, even when a little hand grabbed a fistful of skin. So here was the animal world saying hello and welcome these bubbly ones.

Tuesday rolled in, still balmy and warm. After breakfast, Breanna, Ashton and I worked on some necklaces made of 'crow beads'. I added a tiny brass bell to each one, and the family wanted to hike, so we went up to the meadowed slopes of Bridger Bowl. Breanna, still getting her 'mountain legs' took it slow on the road up to Deer Park Chalet. Ashton and Riley rode in Mom and Dad's backpacks. Tenacity and love for the outdoors overpowered everyone's weary legs and took us to the base of Alpine lift where we headed back down. 'Must have been the mountain air that got to him... DJ opted for a very quick pack up back at our house, and we all set off for Yellowstone, to camp at Indian Creek. We pulled in there around 5:30 or so, and got one of the last 3 sites left. Whew! The tent went up, Julie and Riley laid out the sleeping mats and bags inside, and DJ made us all a taco dinner. Julie's s'mores and hot chocolate followed and then, after counting 37 or so bats overhead, we all tucked in to sleep. Poor Riley had a rough night, though, as did David (a case of hives), so next morning spirits threatened to droop. And still everyone was ready to jump in a river.

DJ has been re-examining his diet to resolve the hive issues, so we were having good times sharing food wisdom, preferences, and aversions. This is why you are not seeing many references to desserts (I love to make em, can't eat most due to gluten, though). I tried to keep fruit on hand and in the course of the visit Ashton (no dairy) and I discovered frozen fruit bars and so did everyone else. David thinks he may have reacted to the beef in the tacos even tho it was from the Co-Op.

So after breakfast and packing up we walked a bit of the terrace by Mammoth and then went to the Boiling River and spent the afternoon amazing ourselves with the pleasure of the hot/cold waters there. We got back to our house and cleaned up, and I had to leave on a last minute call to give a massage at the hospital, so I missed out on the grilled Boca Beerbrats but BiL was able to make it. After my appointment I joined our guests for a private (only us in the theater) showing of 'Evan Almighty' and then it was home and bed. They were so understanding about the nature of my work, supporting me in every way.

Thursday after breakfast everyone under 40 went to Pallisade Falls to picnic and hike. Of course, BiL was teaching, and I had hospice obligations. All but BiL were done in time to meet at Howlers where we got to see wolf pups close-up and touchable, and then we headed into town to meet BiL for dinner at the Aleworks. Following our delicious food, we parked nearby and walked over to the Music on Main event. We would have loved to build something at the Kenyon Noble tent, but the KN people never showed, so facepainting was all Bre and Ashton could do in the kids' activity areas, but they danced in the streets to Music on Main, bluegrass style. Our neighbors were here and there, and the ones with the horses invited us to give em a carrot or apple when we got home.

The last day of the visit was Friday. Between breakfast and the final baths and packing, these brave and strong hearted 5 followed my lead up to an overlook a half hour's ramble from our house. Julie claimed a ridge there (Julie's Ridge now, to us) and everyone between 1 and 40 created an artwork of that majestic view. Riley and I sat on the ground and tried not to eat dirt, getting in extra cuddling time:) Have I mentioned just what a treat it is to embrace just a tumble of pure love and energy? Well.... after adequate time to let the presence of that place soak into our bones and souls, we headed back down, changing our return route slightly. DJ visited 'David's Bench' (he had last snowshoed up there a couple winters ago) with Julie , Riley and Ashton. Breanna (she of huckleberry vision) and I sought and found the first crop of hucks this season, along with ample whortleberries and a couple tiny wild strawberries.

We all joined up again at the house. Everyone who would be traveling took their bath and packed up and when they were done packing, Bre and Ashton took turns having cold foot soaks in a bucket on the deck. Riley fell asleep in my happy arms. And just before leaving, we all took carrots to the horses (I should have brought more carrots) next door, and Ashton said he'd like to ride the black one someday. Julie took a last photo of DJ and me as I fought off tears.

I always cry when they leave, and I know this is a part of the letting go. And I wander the house, sometimes burying myself in housework and laundry, sometimes just letting my feet wander as if tracing little paths of energy and light that they left. When I went to put the laundered sheets on our bed upstairs I found their last gifts to us... the art they made on Julie's Ridge, and a precious note of thanks that we posted in our guest book... the book I was too busy (enjoying myself with the kiddos) to put into their hands while they were still here.

I also have gifts from Breanna... stones she found before coming here, and the art and sign she made at the children's museum.

And I have the gift of their being here.

Thanks to the angels that keep them safe all the way home.

Calling out

2007-03-23T09:35:00.000-07:00

I percieve politics in a way of small landmarks rather than a network of meaning. So this is the approach I am taking in making my inquiries. Today I sent an email to each of the candidates. In essence, it requested action on addressing the causes of chronic disease in our nation, rather than how best to finance treating the symptoms. I'll post any responses here as I get them.

I see that Obama is initiating a campaign for local action towards change. It reminds me of the
Ask Not speech of JFK.

Not much developing from Romney.

In comparison of each guy's approach to health care, Romney promotes ideas that will grow insurance, medical, and pharmaceutical industries. Obama promotes healthier community design programs.

When the last presidential election came around, I had trouble believing that there would really be much difference in what came forth from Washington after election day, no matter what anyone was saying. What happened since then, really educated me.

I believe there can be a difference. I continue to hope.

How to make politics interesting

2007-03-22T21:38:00.000-07:00

This time, BiL and I decided we did not want to let the media pundits filter everything that comes to us about the 2008 election. Or maybe it was a very long drive back from Nebraska and we needed something to keep us awake for a few minutes of sandhills interstate between crane sightings.

Anyway, we each took on a potential candidate from both parties. I chose Obama and Romney. BiL chose Edwards and Rudy G. I am ahead, so far, with three facts on each of my possibles:
Obama:
1. Endorsed by Sarah Carter (Jimmy Carter's granddaughter)
2. Has been openly against the war since 2002; Has proposed a plan for troop withdrawal from Iraq.
3. His wife, Michelle, works with hospital community and diversity programs.

Romney:
1. Endorsed by Orrin Hatch, who besides being a Utah senator, writes music Pat Boone might like.
2. Great grandfather was a poligamist and was living in Mexico for that reason, before the Mexican revolution during which the family relocated to Utah. His wife, Ann, has MS and has been really active with programs for kids.
3. Is credited with saving the SLC Olympics from going bankrupt.

It's a start.

What I really want to know, and have not been able to find, are answers for both candidates such as:
1. What kind of car does he drive?
2. Is he oldest, youngest, or middle child of his siblings?
3. Does he go for prevention or cure?
4. Who is really his personal hero? His mentor?

I'll keep ya posted.

Changing faces

2007-02-16T21:27:00.000-08:00

Sometimes life zooms along at such a blur I hardly know what to put down into words. So I choose a random point to begin, hoping the trail it starts will include the most important piece of the whole. Having never offically studied philosophy theory, I haven't a clue as to what that statement indicates about mine, but I bet son #3 would have some opinions. And he just had a birthday. #26. When someone I love that much adds another solar circuit I think the world is that much better as a result.

I was lunching with him the other day, sharing my stories of braving skiing on 'fast' skis for the first time this season, and listening to his own tales of mentoring a couple alpha-type adolescents. I am a great listener to such talk, having little advice to offer. When you enjoy observing all sides, it is impossible to choose one. The absence of an answer might be mistaken for not caring, but I do care. I am just amazed as I witness my youngest, a young man now, walking in the shoes that his life has brought him. He is the first to admit that he 'doesn't feel like he should be teaching anyone.' I think that his humility and transparency make him one of the best.

We live in a world of movement and transformation. The roads that I walk are changing daily now. One day the snow is nearly gone, the next it is foot deep powder, sculpted into drifts on the third and a thick glaze of ice on the fourth. Time seems to be as solid an entity as ever. The teacher I have been listening to lately quietly asserts that time is an illusion... the only reality is now. Past and present are projections that we pretend are 'now' when we recall or worry about them. Well, there you have a quite incomplete and simple version of it, anyway.

The scientist in my world states that such ideas might bear a sliver of truth. He also says that the way of the world is towards entropy.... chaos. If you drop a plate it fractures into many chards. It moves towards the chaos. The singularity of our distant past keeps expanding, blowing outward, into more and more pieces.

The events of our household have taken on a plasticity of their own. We both notice it... little upsets that seem all out of whack perforate otherwise smooth n easy days. Last night a very warm wind mixed up all sorts of things outside of our house, and perhaps this was part of the stirrings within, too. Physics acknowledge that all is connected. Why should human beings, with our intricate play of neural chemistries, be isolated from the airy ocean that is home?

As I rode the ski lift on Valentine's Day, snow was falling steadily, and I could watch the individual flakes land and ride on my sleeves. Is every flake really unique, I wondered. What if two were identical. Would this be the beginning of a reverse of physics.... the opposite of the tendency to chaos that we are told exists? What would be next? Would I meet myself?

Would I like her?

2007-01-31T21:17:00.000-08:00

Closing the door

2007-01-31T19:56:00.000-08:00

As this month comes to a close, I am combing through all the events since last posting... BiL's physical therapist gave me some helpful direction in working with the scar from his surgery, BiL is driving on his own now, freeing my schedule up considerably, I have begun visiting my hospice client again, I'm exploring several blogs and their various tweakabilities, and I finally have gotten back to my stained glass work! On the 'still pending' list is my massage office site. Some things need their time to work out. Well, there's always my own table in front of our woodstove in a pinch.

After too many days of 'melt n settle', our locale got blessed with 4-6 inches of powder last night. The pitch of conversation where I volunteer at a local coffee bar was measuably excited today. No one was jumping up and down.. the base depth at the local ski place is still not good, but any measuable snowfall gives everyone hope. I got a very nice photo this morning which I will attempt to post with this entry. Something about light coming through grayness just revs me up inside. Rainy days do that. Snowy mornings do that. :) They weather powers are forecasting snow tonight and tomorrow, but when their predictions rise, our actualities fall. For now, though, it is looking more as it should: a soft, white blanket, and pine branches clasping perfect rounds of virgin white in their green needle tips. We even got to see some new winged visitors, pine grosbeaks.... in their first year, by their russet heads.

I've enjoyed (with envy) knowing that my NE family have gotten their good share of white stuff. I am told that my grandson squeals when he sleds. Heck, I squeal for real, saucering down our driveway, never knowing where I will end up. This, of course, brings our neighbor dog (her name, I found out, is Abigail, but I keep wanting to call her Isabelle for some reason). She rambles beside me, smiling in her dog way.

Today, she followed me as I snowshoed up our west slope. I had seen her an hour earlier, 2 miles down the road with my other neighbor, so I knew she had been on the run nearly constantly, and was surprised at her abundant energy! Only on the way down did I see her occasionally collapse into the deep snow and slide rather than leap through. It was nearing late afternoon, and I was happy to have her with me to discourage any human despising cow moose. I'd love to see said moose, but not face to face.

As usual, my exertion into the white left me somehow energized, and I launched into more wood splitting and snow clearing until dark, once I got home. BiL made dinner, I started a fire, ate and cleared dishes, and now the flakes are just starting to fall again.

Yay. (not too loud, now).

Snowshoe

2007-01-15T21:49:00.000-08:00

Today we both agreed to stay home. It's MLK day, and while the guys on the radio debated the meaning of the day, we had our own discussion and finding agreement, decided that was that. I determined that I would not spend the entire waking hours getting lost in housechores. BiL has been doing a little sorting of his goods every day, is getting around in the house without crutches some of the time (watch it, BiL, don't overdo!), and is managing more of his own needs. I still get the meals, do the laundry, make the fires, etc, but his healing is coming along so that I feel ok leaving him on his own for several hours at a time if need be. Yesterday and the day before I did just that to complete some needed tasks in town. Today would be different.

After I did just the right amount of organizing my own wayward papers and catching up on cleaning after our waffle breakfast and chili and couscous lunch, I brewed my traditional "hiking" thermos of jasmine tea, strapped on my Atlas snowshoes, and beelined up the slope west of the house. The local dog has run off the day population of moose, elk, and deer, so I didn't have a worry about surprising anything bigger than a breadbox. The snow was a foot deep at minimal, the hiking steep, slow, but delightful powder all the way!

The air might have been 12 degrees or so, the sky, 3pm winter blue. Even tho the snow depth is not enough to complete cover the generous alderberry, raspberry, and serviceberry shrubs, it is enough to be shoe-able without getting hung up. It is so freeing to the heart to find one's way through the thickets of pines, across logs, past pockets of snow crystal growths like window frost gone three dimensional. I gained altitude til I was up on the old logging road, too high to see our house. I took the road downward to my favorite huge log on the west slope. In the summer the log is inviting, but must be avoided as it is home to a myriad of 6 leggeds that would just as soon sample your flesh as they would enemy colonies. In the present season, they sleep and the log is a place to lean against, a snow blanketed sanctuary of silence. I paused there, letting my fingertips feel blood in them again, downing my thermos of tea (sharing a cup with Earth Mom), feeling the shadowed cold kissing the back of my sweating neck.

After checking in with BiL on the walkie talkie, I began the descent back to the house. Midway down I saw the snowshoe tracks of my neighbor, Marion.

Popular place.

Settling in

2007-01-15T20:54:00.000-08:00

The night we got home, the temperature was -19 as we came up our drive. This is a more typical Montana winter night, I am told. Nebraska feels frigid to me at far warmer temperatures, I suppose due to the more moist air there. But here, it's hard to believe the temps are so low, unless you happen to be out in them for a length of time. The still air is deceptive to the skin, so you have to be careful about bundling up.

After so much time in Nebraska, and then on the road, it felt surreal to be home. Our cat remembered me quickly, but took a little longer to warm up to BiL. Josh had the house wonderfully clear and clean, but I undid that as I unloaded the car. Pretty soon, the living room was blooming with boxes and suitcases, clothing and books from BiL's temporary digs in Nebraska. The boxes we had shipped would be picked up in town later, so we could focus on going through each box we'd brought with us anytime we were ready. For this night, though, we just enjoyed visiting with Josh, catching up news of his stay since coming back several days earlier.

I was really surprised to see BiL traversing the stairs so readily. He wanted to see the colors of the walls that had been painted since his last visit home in October. He loved them. :) He also decided to sleep upstairs for the night!

In the morning we went into town, taking BiL to his pt appointment, and taking Josh home. BiL got the good news from his therapist that his knee is coming along very well, and Josh got a pleasant surprise of his car starting even in the subzero temps. While BiL was in therapy, I made arrangements to have his snowtires put on his car next week. After the treatment, we both enjoyed cruising around Bozeman, getting our roots back down in the town.

It is always wrenching to leave all the folks we love back in Nebraska. Their faces, the sounds of their voices, the feel of their hugs remain very tangible to me all the way home and after. When I get home, it is like waking from one dream into another. This time, I found that I had to relearn some of the cupboard space in my kitchen to find certain cookware or dishes. My mind has been occupied first with BiL's pt appointments, then with the 'coming home' tasks like emptying suitcases, putting things away, getting the mail picked up and delivery started for that and for the paper, and stocking up on perishables. All these little chores serve to help bring me home in body and mind.

Roadies

2007-01-15T20:20:00.000-08:00

Two and a half weeks after his surgery, BiL braved the long trip back to Montana. We reclined his seat as far as we could, brought the trusty ice packs, packed the car as much as it could hold, prepared an easy to reach (for BiL) basket of goodies, and departed on our thousand mile plus way around 1:30 pm that day.

Routing ourselves to circumvent the worst of the latest snowstorms, we took a slow journey, stopping every 90 minutes so he could stretch and move that knee (doctor's orders). As the sole driver, I must admit that the frequent rest stops helped me stay alert. The roads were nearly empty, and dry as a bone through Nebraska and most of South Dakota. We found lodging in Rapid City for the night, and continued the next day into heavy winds and blowing snow. The road was mercifully dry and safe till we got into Wyoming. Reduced to single lane travel, I90 wound it's way along the higher altitudes with intermittent snowpack and ice. We stopped in Gillette for lunch. By the time we got to Sheridan, I was very happy to take a long break at the Java Moon, where BiL had a latte and I found just what I needed in a pot of honey lemon ginseng tea.

Almost at the Wyoming Montana border, the ice cleared and traffic returned to normal speeds. That is, until Billings, where the pavement sported a steady layer of ice. Another rest stop there, and then we continued slowly enough to keep our track steady. Things improved greatly after leaving Columbus, and we rolled into our little neighborhood around 9, I think.

Josh had the driveway cleared for us, a fire in the woodstove, and ample wood to get us through a couple days. After two 11 hour days on the road, what a welcome that was!

Stones in the path

2007-01-04T11:01:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I packed and lifted (4 times) 265 lbs of office books and teaching materials from BiL's office at the U... toted and shipped them home, as we'll have no room to take them ourselves. Tons (well, really, pounds) of effort, but it felt good to have it done. We still have several more boxes worth of stuff that will come from the room where he's lived for the past season of teaching which will also get shipped. BiL's mobility and stamina is returning as his pain decreases. Today he gets the 20 staples removed. I think we are both eager to see what changes he experiences when those are not restricting his knee movement. Last night we celebrated his last anticoagulent injection with his favorite frozen yogurt dessert.

Small works with great love has been the theme this week, and we are both doing better, I think. I use the web and my emails to monitor the weather at the house. Movement seems to be a constant, whether keeping joints limber or setting boxes in motion towards home. Even my son's family is moving today... going on a ski trip. Inertia is a constant and needs to be overcome but then it's amazing to experience the changes that happen.

BiL is now eager to get on the road, too, to go home. This is a tremendous step of recovery.

snow, blowing snow

2006-12-15T11:15:00.000-08:00

True to form, the day before I leave, the snow has come. Not enough to provide good skiing at the bowl, but enough to keep me from going into town today. I90 is black ice and snow and blowing snow... good reason to stay put. I will go over the snowblower manual and fire her up for my first dance with the beast. She travels on caterpillar tread, and our first year of having her, there was always BiL or Josh or Martin to take her reins, but today it is just me. I want to be able to work with her, and not be intimidated or cowed by her heft and power. 'Only one way to do that as I see it. The shovel is my pal, and I am happy to scoop herringbone designs into our curved uphill drive, but the days will come when the snow is too much for that, and BiL will be healing of knee surgery, and I want to be ready.

horizontal feeders

2006-12-13T15:33:00.000-08:00

It is an extremely windy day in the hills. Already, last night, high winds were posted east of us, advising drivers of high profile vehicles to use the next exit to get off the interstate. We lost power to our neighborhood for a half hour today, but I already had the fire going, so Mo, the cat, and I stayed warm and still inside. Even tho the winds have the birdfeeders in horizontal orientation, Mo is curled up and napping. She is a cat of two speeds: high and napping. It seems that the winds have effected her, even tho she is inside. Perhaps it is an air pressure thing.

I have Christmas goodie bags to walk to the neighbors', so I am off to do that before it gets dark. I'll wear my yaktraks, not so much for the ice (there is little of it left), but to help me keep from getting blown off the road.