Live and Learn

Running out of Excuses

2009-09-22T19:52:00.003-04:00

Don't know if I will have the computer long enough to make this a real post, but I've neglected this blog for too long, and have something to get down.

I attended a writing workshop this past weekend, actually signed up and went. I had no idea what to expect, loved the entire experience, met and worked with some wonderful writers, and am still mulling over something very important that I learned, which I can only sum up as, "Tell it like it is." Not as I see it, or interpret it, but as it is. Seems like common sense, but there's something key there that I was missing, and I've been walking around with that "Eureka!" feeling ever since.

There's a brick missing from the wall. I know it's there, because words are leaking in. I'm searching for the hole, but I don't know if it's because my subconscious wants to plug it, or peer through.

Okay, that's it, time's up. Back to pen and notebook!

Transferring posts from A Wren's Nest

2009-04-23T00:25:00.005-04:00

I'm bringing over some posts from an older blog of mine at LiteralMinded. They aren't new, so I'll probably date them as they were, but they'll all be under the Wren's Nest tag.

Here's hoping any nonsense in them can be overlooked or forgiven; they were written when I was among friends, and intended for our writing site, so there are bits of silliness everywhere. :)

From Forks, Back Home

2009-04-23T00:03:00.002-04:00

If nothing else, Stephenie Meyer got me reading entire books again. Fiction, at that. Clawing my way back from teenager-vampire stories, I read Pride and Prejudice (and then promptly sat down and watched the movie until the wee hours of the morning), and now have been engrossed in Silas House novels. I want to get my hands on more Kentucky writing; in fact, I need to do that.

I want to see what is out there, learn more about place and voice. And of course, who would mind camping out with a stack of Wendell Berry to read?

I've Been Sucked In...

2009-03-19T15:21:00.004-04:00

No pun intended, LOL. It's happened. I'm wrapped up in the world of Twilight. Just dabbling, I've told my friends and family. But, good grief.

Have read the first two books, waiting for my niece to finish the third. Sigh.

Between the author and the movie director/actors, they've NAILED the romance. The funny thing is, I recognize the formula, and I don't care. I want to know what happens to these characters. I don't read standard "romance novels" as a rule, but I have read Kathleen E. Woodiwiss, and I have to wonder if Stephenie Meyer has, too. No vampires that I recall, and definitely more, um, explicit, but all of the frustration and misunderstandings - Heather and Brandon, anyone?

So now I'm considering showing up for the midnight release of the DVD, and I'm following some role-players on Twitter, keeping up with the day-to-day in the Cullen family.

Dabbling, indeed.

Something Old, Something New

2009-03-16T21:51:00.002-04:00

Woo hoo! We've just opened an online store. It's a family effort, so we'll be selling a little bit of everything. Right now, we have books and vintage magazines listed, but once the dust from construction clears, this should be a lot of fun! (I need a way to pay for my book habit.)

Come check us out at "Bikers and Books"!

From the Nonsense Files: A Tug of War

2009-01-10T15:26:00.011-05:00

Recently, I participated in an online writing workshop, and one of the first assignments involved listing positive and negative traits I saw in myself, and then taking them to the extreme: creating two characters, mirror images, based on those traits. Writing about two "me"s turned out to be boring, so I took a more literal approach. Apologizing for any piece was against the class rules, and so I'll try not to do that here.

-----------------------------------

Shanna and Em live in a place of light and shadow. A world parallel to our own, but with gaps and sometimes gulfs of nothingness that may be suddenly filled again, the moment light touches the space. They only have contact with the Girl through mirrors and reflections. She doesn't look at them often. They make a bit of a game of it, guessing who will see her next.

-- She's looked at me! She's here! -- Shanna is frozen in front of the bathroom mirror, holding her reddish-brown hair on top of her head, and smiling slightly. -- Oh, I hope she'll stay. I really think I could help her. -- She inspects the Girl's teeth, then turns the bathroom light off and moves to the livingroom. Her identical twin is there on the couch, reading. Depending on the Girl's mood, one of them is free to do as she pleases, while the other remains available to reflect from any mirrors or other smooth surfaces. Not a hard job at all, and lately, Em has been busier than her sister.

"All she needs is some self-confidence, and a good start. She can do this!" Shanna stands in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, surveying the mess around her. As she begins to move stacks of books and laundry, in parallel with the girl in that other world, she tries to give her movements a little extra oomph, as much as is allowed. She smiles broadly, knowing that it won't show through clearly in the reflection from the TV screen, but also knowing that she can subtly influence the Girl's state of mind as they stay in sync.

Her sister looks up from the book she is reading, and shakes her head at Shanna's antics. "Pointless!" is all she says, as she lifts her feet to allow more books to be moved. "I give her five minutes, tops."

A generous guess, because the Girl and Shanna have now found the violin tucked behind the couch, and they are off to find some music to play along with.

"Agh! No! I hid that thing." Em drags a pillow over her head. "Can't she pick something more quiet to learn?"

-- Hush, you. This is good. She hasn't picked it up in months. -- Shanna screws up her mouth and concentrates, mostly hitting the right notes. Luckily, the music is turned up loudly enough to blend in the occasional squeak. She enjoys herself thoroughly for the next half hour, then she and the Girl put down their bows together, and head off to the kitchen to make lunch.

Some days are like this, fun, full of new projects, potential. Shanna happily flits along from one to the other, inside or out, skimming across pots and pans or smiling from the windows of the greenhouse. Beekeeping, painting, gardening, and there is always some new topic to research. She sometimes gets to leave the place, visit with other Reflectors, wherever the Girl goes. She has been camping recently; even went kayaking, her face gliding across the surface of the water as the Girl watched for fish or turtles below.

She has traveled a bit, as well. This year the Girl became involved in a political cause; Shanna has been to rallies, waved signs, helped start a reading group. The Girl becomes more animated when she is out: interacting, discussing, encouraging others. Shanna can tell that she feels good at these times.

Eventually, though, the Girl becomes overwhelmed. So many projects, so little time. Being around groups of people drains her. She comes home to a messy house, and so cannot relax to read or work on something quiet, yet doesn't have the energy required to clean or organize. This is when Em's reflection is the one seen.

Em wants to be left alone, needs peace and quiet, wants to read. Em doesn't trust people, not anyone. People will eventually hurt you, she claims. They will disappoint you. Em sees no point in continuing projects, cleaning the house, or getting involved in "futile" causes. She is interested in new things, too, but why take risks? She worries when Shanna is out, but shows it through criticism, and pessimistic comments intended to keep her sister home. She cares deeply about people, too deeply, and so withdraws, to avoid seeing their pain.

The Girl (and she is no longer a girl, Em will tell you, so why keep calling her by that silly name?) hardly looks at Em; when she does, they both look away immediately. The Girl keeps only two mirrors in the house, one in the bathroom, where she looks specifically at her teeth or hair, and one on the vanity of the dresser upstairs, which she simply avoids, letting the dust build up on the glass.

Things go on like this for a while, Em and the Girl sometimes spending entire days on the couch with a stack of books and a bag of chocolate doughnuts, reading madly, searching for new knowledge, occupying their minds with anything but whatever pressure the Girl is avoiding. Then something clicks, the Girl looks up with either resolve or resignation, and the cycle begins again: it is Shanna's turn to Reflect.

At night, sometimes, when the Girl is asleep. Em and Shanna will sit up and talk about things. Shanna tries to convince Em that what the Girl needs is more encouragement, but Em will have none of it. It's reality, she counters, and she insists that the Girl must learn to deal with it.

And so there is a perpetual tug of war; but Shanna and Em are more alike than they realize. Both are the same, in fact, but for one thing: Shanna accepts herself, where Em never can.

HR 4040 -CPSIA

2009-01-08T14:21:00.018-05:00

Is anyone watching the new regulations on the sale of children's items? HR 4040, the Consumer Protection Safety Improvement Act, was passed into law in August; the deadline for compliance is February 10, 2009 (now being called National Bankruptcy Day), and most people haven't even heard of it.

The CPSIA was passed with good intentions (and you know what they say about those), requiring that all children's items be certified lead- and phthlalate-free. Everyone can see the good in that, right? But there are unintended consequences.

Updates are coming in faster than I can type this up, so I will try to make corrections.

Aside from the fact that this means thrift stores, Goodwills, consignment shops, and ebay sellers will have to stop selling anything lacking that certification (for lead, even items manufactured prior to the deadline), anyone who sells their own creations (children's clothing lines, handmade toys) will also have to go through expensive testing to have their product certified, then attach, and keep records of, an official tag. Penalties for non-cooperation? Anything from huge fines, to losing your Powerseller status on ebay (okay, I'm feeling sarcastic, ebay has a history of jumping on certain bandwagons - try selling the teacher's manual for your homeschool curriculum on their site: http://pages.ebay.com/help/policies/teachersedition.html).

As I'm typing this, I'm realizing that the baby blankets my mother and I make would fall under this law, even if, as someone else put it, we grew the organic cotton ourselves and had it harvested by virgins. The wooden pull-toys and pop-guns that my father made to sell at local craft festivals? Illegal. And most crafters are working the winter away on this summer's products, probably unaware that they will be unable to sell them. Update: Some natural materials are apparently exempted as of a change made this week - BUT they must be undyed and not have gone through any processing that might expose them to the hazardous substances.

During all of past few years' recalls, there was a movement toward "natural", handmade, wood-and-cotton type items. Cottage businesses sprung up, using only safe materials. These same businesses will disappear, if the language of the law is not clarified to allow exceptions for smaller companies. Mattel and Hasbro will have no trouble affording the fees for testing every component of every style of every toy they produce in the millions - they'll just tack the cost onto the price tag. The home-based children's clothing designer? She may only have five items in that style.

I have just lost the freedom to make another decision for myself, and as a parent, without the risk of breaking a law. I understand the good intentions, but ironically, they may have just put another brick in the road to China.

In the spirit of redundancy, this encourages high-quality European toy manufacturers to pull out of the US market. Companies like Haba, who already have more stringent testing in place, and don't care to take on additional, pointless requirements.

It's not just toys and clothing that are regulated. ANY item intended for use by a child under the age of 12 is covered under this law, including household items like children's furniture.

There is not much media coverage of this (maybe they're waiting for the Obama fun to settle down?), and what there is is confusing. Conflicting statements in online news articles quote government representatives such as CPSC Public Affairs Director Julie Vallese as saying there are exceptions for resale and consignment. In other articles, these same representatives will say they were misquoted, there are currently NO SUCH EXCEPTIONS, although I have seen people all over the internet quoting the original articles. A press release dated January 8th says that Vallese is now leaving her position with CPSC. (Did she get sick of working with big government?)

Example: http://www.tampabays10.com/news/local/story.aspx?storyid=97558 Note the conflicting quotes, and also the brackets. At least two of the articles I've seen have had "clarifying" words inserted into a quote meant to be construed as confirming an exemption.

The CPSC has tried to allow business owners to continue to sell older product, but they were sued by Natural Resouces Defense Council and Public Citizen, shutting down any loophole.

A Congressional hearing, which would have allowed witnesses to testify on the effects of the law's wording, was cancelled.

I doubt we'll hear much about this in the MSM until at least February, but it is already affecting small businesses everywhere.

This also affects educational and science supply companies (Need light bulbs for kids's microscopes? Good luck, one company has stopped selling them - there's a dot of solder on the base.), and the book industry is concerned, as retailers are requiring information from their vendors, in order to comply with the new law.

Okay, I'll stop. But do they think this helps the economy? Really, if they would just clear up the language, and think about the consequences of implementing this law on the huge scale it would require to enforce it, they could stop now, and prevent some damage. Hopefully they will realize what they've done. Don't laugh. Please. I'm trying to hold out hope.

The CPSC is currently accepting comments until January 30th:

http://www.cpsc.gov/about/cpsia/ComponentPartsComments.pdf

Questions: http://www.cpsc.gov/cgibin/newleg.aspx

Link to CPSIA:

http://www.cpsc.gov/ABOUT/Cpsia/cpsia.HTML

A group keeping an informed eye on things:

http://www.fashion-incubator.com/phpbb/index.php?c=11

Big Update: http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml09/09086.html

The CPSC has issued clarification for resellers. Still a bit confusing:

"The new law requires that domestic manufacturers and importers certify that children’s products made after February 10 meet all the new safety standards and the lead ban. Sellers of used children’s products, such as thrift stores and consignment stores, are not required to certify that those products meet the new lead limits, phthalates standard or new toy standards.

The new safety law does not require resellers to test children’s products in inventory for compliance with the lead limit before they are sold. However, resellers cannot sell children’s products that exceed the lead limit and therefore should avoid products that are likely to have lead content, unless they have testing or other information to indicate the products being sold have less than the new limit. Those resellers that do sell products in violation of the new limits could face civil and/or criminal penalties."

So...resellers don't have to test, but they can't sell something that exceeds the lead limit. How can you know this without testing? Basically seems to relieve the reseller of responsibility for testing, leaving it on the manufacturer. Crafters still bear costs then, at this point, as well.

Looks like progress, though! They're listening - keep talking!

Oh, did I mention that Ron Paul was the only state representative who voted against HR 4040? He sees what's happening, and speaks up - that's why I love the man.

Ready...Set...use the Crock-pot!

2009-01-01T13:23:00.014-05:00

How about a post to start off the new year?

Well, I woke up this morning to frozen pipes, which immediately took all the air out of my plans to wash the dishes and cook up something healthy...ish.

Luckily, the water is running again, and hubby is still in bed; I didn't have to stress him out with the news. We'll probably still have to check for leaks, but the day isn't ruined! Have you ever spent a day either being the person-on-your-back-in-a-frozen-mudpit-of-a-crawlspace-with-a-flashlight-and-a-hair-dryer-in-eight-degree-weather, or as the one walking around above said person, yelling status reports down through the bathroom tile?

It's a good thing we have kids, because at some point we give up on through-the-floor communication, and set up a message relay - one of us in the room with the sink, one at the door, and one poor soul at the opening to the crawlspace, shouting updates to Dad. Yes, it's Dad in the crawlspace. I ain't that crazy. (Okay, so I'm lucky that the pipes tend to freeze on days that he is home. :D )

You'd think we'd replace the insulation that a raccoon took a liking to, two winters ago. But...yeah.

Okay, so back to the cooking. I have had a love-hate relationship with Crock-pots since the first time I used one. Sort of like my issues with electric can openers, but that's another story. A Crock-pot is a wonderful thing, makes your kitchen smell divine all day, and produces a delicious meal with very little work. You do have to remember to turn it ON (coming home starving, only to find a whole, raw chicken at room temperature is my favorite way to remind myself of this fact), and worse, you do have to clean it. Eventually. And that's where the problems really start.

This is how it usually goes:

I decide to let the broth or leftovers cool down (after all, I'm going to use them for some fabulous meal tomorrow, right?). My first mistake. The food is now out of sight, but it's there, and it's watching me. It either continues to sit there throughout the night (and looks decidedly gross in the morning), or I suddenly remember and stick the whole thing in the fridge, to deal with the next day...where it looks decidedly gross in the morning. Or is forgotten. Completely. Once we have reached the point of gross, or forgotten-and-biohazardous, I continue to procrastinate, thinking, hey, there might be an apocalypse any day now, why waste my last hours dealing with this?

Eventually, the crock and I take a trip Outside, where the contents can be disposed of without any deaths being caused by fumes. The last time I tried this, I could not get the lid off to save my life. Yes, I know I could have used a knife. Or heated things back up (!), and that I could have avoided this whole thing, if I'd used one of those nifty liners I'd bought. But I was TIRED of this crock-pot. It was a hand-me-down, with a broken knob and a plastic lid, and an 80s color scheme. We were in a harmful relationship, and it was just best if we parted ways. So we did. That's all I'll say.

Fast forward to the final days of 2008, and I am inspired to try it again. The Crockpot Lady at A Year of Crockpotting has posted some delicious looking meals (and desserts! and crafts! and...) that she made during a year-long challenge to herself: to cook something every day in a Crock-pot. I've been drooling for days, and finally convinced hubby to bring home a new friend from the favorite store to hate. I know, I know. But it's a new year! If everyone else can be in denial about their diet resolutions for 2009...

Besides, she makes it look so eeeasy...

I'll Fly Away

2008-11-30T23:59:00.000-05:00

So, I finally managed to get a recording from my phone onto Youtube. My brothers and sister and I sang two songs at my father's funeral (no, I'm not ready to go there, yet); one of them was "I'll Fly Away".

This was only a practice run, but it's what I have. It was the first time we had ever worked on anything like this. Our time together was very special.

Autumn

2008-10-17T08:30:00.008-04:00

Took a short walk at Mom and Dad's yesterday, right around sunset. It had rained - a nice, solid, autumn rain - and there was a vivid orange blanket of leaves, lying soft on the ground. The trunks of the trees were black and wet in contrast, lending to the the impression of some calendar photograph: a scene from a Japanese garden, or an illustration alongside a Robert Frost poem.

Definitely inspired some meditation. I stood there, wishing I could carry back the scene, the moment, to my father, who loved to ride down these trails, pointing out blackberries to my mother in the summer, watching for deer in the fall. He would have stopped here, too, I think, and said to my mother, "Well, would you look at that..."

Tearjerkers

2008-10-11T22:41:00.008-04:00

I have been watching lots of period romance, can-never-be-together tearjerkers, lately. Why is that? Maybe I'm just hormonal, mooning around wanting romance. Maybe I'm trying to process the things I've been thinking about lately (people, relationships, etc.). Maybe I'm looking for a safe, controlled outlet for tears.

Today I sat in a room with my dying father, watching through the window as my seven-year-old son rolled down a sun-splashed hill in brilliant flashes of white T-shirt and red sweatpants. Life energies and generations; one waxing, the other waning.

I have buried myself in classes and causes, but none are a perfect escape route. Reality continues, with or without my cooperation.

We're caught in the grey, now. Not knowing when, we feel the need to watch and wait, cling to moments. We look back, and look forward. Both make us cry.

Time to Get Seed-Crazy

2008-09-30T22:41:00.006-04:00

Took a woodswalk today with the kids; I wrote about it in my seed journal blog, since we were mainly gathering nuts. Come to think of it, I guess what we were really doing was foraging, but seed-gathering is the frame of mind I have been in, so that's where it went.

The trees are loaded with nuts and fruit this year; there was no late freeze like last year, and we had good rains through the spring, to make up for last summer's drought.

I should be busy in my seed blog this fall; it's time to start thinking about winter sowing, and Paul has mentioned the word "greenhouse" more than once this week!!!

Anyone who knows me is well aware of my behaviour in the fall; all I can see are seeds, I'm in full gathering mode, and my thoughts are full of seed orders I need to make. You can try to talk to me about something else, but I'll manage to bring it back around to seeds, in the end. I can't apologize for it, I am hard-wired this way, and enjoy every minute of the insanity.

Lest anyone think I've given up all other tangents - fear not!

Although I did my typical routine with a recent online writing workshop I signed up for (barely met the deadlines at first, gradually stopped submitting any work), I keep moving forward, and have signed up for a beginning painting class with a local artist. I'm really excited about this, have wanted to take one of his classes for years, but there were always schedule issues. This year, we'll already be in town with the kids' soccer practice, so my hubby can just drop me off on the way to their field! Woo hoo!

Bees - Fall Checkup

2008-09-26T21:55:00.004-04:00

Aagh! I am just devastated. My poor bees - here I thought they were doing great, even overcrowded. I assumed wrong. When I went out to add some space for them to expand, I found that they are practically starving! Too dry, the pond nearby is covered with algae, maybe they are unable to get enough water? Anyway, will be feeding them and setting up a water source right next to the hive. I feel terrible.

Rally for the Republic is Today!

2008-09-02T09:47:00.013-04:00

Woo hoo! We're here in Minneapolis, and Ron Paul's Campaign for Liberty has its kickoff rally today!

A group of us Paulites from Kentucky are staying with a great guy, named Dave. Downtown Minneapolis is beautiful, a really nice city. Another gal and I went walking there on Sunday and stopped in a park, where we met tons of freedom-lovers, plus the guys who participated in the Walk for Freedom. I went back yesterday, to help set up the Target center for the rally. It's HUGE!

Update:

The Republican party has been holding its convention across the river, in St. (Ron) Paul, but they've got nothing on us; we've had more fun, and possibly more people - the Target Center (15,000-17,000 people?) was packed to the rafters by the time Ron Paul spoke Tuesday evening.

I've met so many national delegates to the Republican convention on this trip! Many of them were at our rally (and had to leave in a hurry when the GOP convention called a special vote that night). We heard a lot from them about what was really going on at the convention, more of the same stuff that was pulled at the state level. Separate seating and extra security guards around any possible RP supporters (Ron Paul himself was not allowed to appear, unless he left his credentials at the gate, and came without Carl, his bodyguard). McCain signs handed out that were made to look "home-made", signals for applause...poor guys, we didn't need any of that. The applause and cheers coming out of the Target Center must have sounded like thunder to downtown Minneapolis.

Hung out in St. Paul for a while on Wednesday, luckily no tear gas while I was walking around, although there were police everywhere, in riot gear or on bikes. Even the horses had shields on. Horrible stuff went on all week, I won't go into it, a lot of it's on Youtube. Tourist or activist, tear gas can't tell the difference.

A lot of good stuff happened, too, though; for Ron Paul people, it was like a family reunion.

There was a concert on Monday night, great music, lots of people. It feels good, you know, to be in a crowd that feels like family. The coolest thing is that we are all so different - in spite of that, or perhaps because of that, it works.

I wish this would be covered in the media. I wish people could know what really goes on. There will be lies, though. Just like the rally in Washington, D.C. Police estimates: over 10,000. (Watch these videos: two of them, Part One and Part Two and the people are still coming, for as far as you can see.) CNN: A few hundred people showed up.

Sigh.

No, no sighing.

END THE FED!!!

Rain

2008-08-14T03:47:00.003-04:00

This video sends me. Done by a great friend; my evil twin, in fact. Who never calls, by the way. Ahem.

Rain 2

Another image he created. If you knew this hill, you would realize the awesome size of this imaginary building, which I will call a citadel, because it's my blog, and my hill (sort of), and because I like that word.

Laughing at Myself

2008-08-14T02:39:00.009-04:00

Sometimes I crack myself up. Once again, I find myself sitting up into the wee hours of the morning, mind racing, stack of books I'm wanting to read, posts to make, excited about the John Adams mini-series I've finally started watching...and honestly wondering where all of this energy came from!

Duh...I drank a huge cup of McD's sweet tea earlier tonight - that stuff is potent! And yet surprises me every time. Ha!

More random thoughts: that widget on the right side of this page, that says "What I'm Listening To"? It's based on a few picks from my current favorites, but I really am listening to the samples, too, lol. And do rather often. Thirty-second snippets, and strangely, I love it. So, yeah, I need to add more songs. Or, maybe, to quit procrastinating, and get some work done. Ya think?

Wild Asparagus

2008-06-19T10:12:00.011-04:00

Thought I'd post some pictures of the wild asparagus from last month. It was exciting to find it, I knew the plants were there, but had only seen it in the fall, when I gathered the red berries for my own wintersowing.

The asparagus grows on a hill across the road from us, probably the escapee of some long ago garden. The kids and I would walk over every few days, and scan the spots where last year's old stalks and branches could still be found (the farm is mowed for hay, but with last year's drought, I guess they were able to grow unhindered). We had almost given up, and the kids probably thought I was crazy, but we kept looking. Finally, after a couple of warm, sunny days (and right about the time my asparagus seeds were sprouting), we spotted our first spears.

This is what it looks like coming up out of the ground:

You can see why it can be hard to spot. The sticks in the photo are some of last year's stalks, after they had fallen down. As the grass and weeds grow taller, it becomes harder to find; the stalks and tips take on the same green and dusty purple as that of the surrounding grass and its seedheads, and searching for asparagus becomes a game of hidden pictures.

Asparagus needs to be gathered soon after it emerges, within a day if the soil is warm and growth is fast. The stalk becomes bitter once its scales have opened,

to form branches:

Another interesting thing is a ferny version - this is probably the male or female plant, I've read conflicting viewpoints on that, but I'm guessing female, unless both sexes produce spears and ferns.

What I'm curious about are the small red beetles that seemed to love the ferns, they were on every plant we found. Wish I'd taken the time to observe them more closely; I don't know if they were eating the plant. It's possible that they lay their eggs on it.

Oops, I forgot to mention the eating! Well, I can't yet compare it to garden asparagus, but I can tell you that the store-bought spears I cooked up, while much thicker, were also much tougher; I had to cut off quite a bit as unusable. The wild asparagus, cut within a day or so of appearing, was tender almost to the ground. And oh, so good. Just steam it (or microwave in a covered dish with some water) for a couple of minutes, and it's ready to be eaten (yummy with a cheese sauce!) or canned.

The canned asparagus in the photo is mostly store-bought, with some wild thrown in.

I'll try to add a photo of the mature plants in the fall, if they aren't mown down this year. I also need to find out how to wrap photos into the text, this post looks like one of my infamous Lists!

In the meantime, Stalking the Wild Asparagus, by Euell Gibbons, is a related title that others have recommended; I've had it on my wishlist for a while:

Something Someone Said...

2008-06-13T19:34:00.009-04:00

My friend Crys recently wrote, in her blog, Simply Living:

So when we meet someone who actively listens and doesn't pass judgment on our opinions or feelings but rather lets them stand for what they are, we want to be consumed by that person. Our entire lives have been created behind barriers, and now we have the opportunity to tear those down. We don't know how long it will last. We don't know if it will ever come again with another person. We want to be consumed, if only for a moment.

I've been struggling with something similar, lately. I spend so much time with only my family, and even where we are open, we have rituals and routines built into our relationships. Seems doors shut before you can go anywhere new, based on familiarity, or annoyance from pushing one another's buttons. We settle into our roles, to remain comfortable in close quarters.

Then, I venture out into the "world", and suddenly find myself making a connection with someone new, realizing we hold the same thoughts on some favorite author, or discovering that we have something else in common I'd thought long ago buried or forgotten in myself.

I tend to get a little too intense when I find that understanding, even after the individual has moved on. It's not about them, though; it's that I suddenly feel like a whole person, seen through another's eyes. That feeling excites my mind, even sends me into little daydreams about alternate lives and potential.

It's silly, really, because that individual cannot have anywhere near the view of my whole self that my family does. Still, I begin to resent the casual familiarity in my own home; wishing my husband and I stayed up at night debating science or philosophy, without resorting to picking at each other's choice of words; wishing life in a secure relationship didn't sometimes feel so mundane; wishing that my children knew that when I am away from expectations and preconceived notions, sometimes I shine.

But then, I realize that they have no preconceived notions that I have not set for them, that I am the only one limiting how much of myself I share with them, and that in order for them to be able to grow into whole persons, they must be encouraged; they need that same interaction and appreciation. They need to shine, and to know when they do.

There are reasons for these little reminders of how we see ourselves, and of how we choose to interact with others.

Bee Checkup

2008-06-11T16:40:00.008-04:00

So, yesterday I went out to check on the bees. They've been happily buzzing around, enjoying the wild roses and other flowers. Looks like they're doing okay, but what do I know?

I'm going to have to ask some real beekeepers (at the beemaster.com forums) about what may be supercedure or swarm cells on the bottom of a couple of the frames. Could be nothing, could be they aren't happy. Could be I'm anxiety-prone. I didn't see the queen during this inspection; I only pulled out two or three frames. But I did see some larvae, so she has to have been around recently, at least.

They are putting up some beautiful honey. I stole a bit from the burr comb that was opened when I removed the inner cover. Light, clear, and sweet. Nothing like the stuff in the bear-shaped bottle from Save-a-Lot. Easily addictive, and my mind instantly went to recipes, buttered biscuits at breakfast-time, and beautiful jars lined up in the pantry. The bees may be telepathic, because at that point they began head-butting my hat and rear end. Time for me to move along!

Still no stings, but go figure, as I was sitting here looking at photos of the hive, something stung me beside my shoulder blade! I ran out to grab some plantain, but had to have hubby put it on the sting, since I could barely reach it.

I'll try to get out and work with them again soon. Today I placed an empty frame between two that were partially filled with honey; they are mainly working in the center of the hive. I need to get some new frames ready and add a super, to give them more space. Hopefully they'll stick around!

Spring cleaning of a blog...

2008-06-04T22:27:00.000-04:00

This evening, I transferred some of the posts from my blog at freeminded.literalminded.com , to the I'll Try It section of Live and Learn. They're mostly about the beginnings of this year's beekeeping, although some are just random thoughts, naturally!

It seemed to make more sense to have them here, since they are related to tangents, and learning something new! Besides, it looks like I may start blogging over there about Ron Paul's books and other writings. So, just a bit of rearranging.

I have other projects in the works, too; hope I don't spread myself too thin. Ha!

Eastern Redbud

2008-05-28T13:53:00.005-04:00

Everything is green here, in May. Flower and vegetable gardens are in full swing, and tractors are in the fields, baling hay. But in late March or early April, when it seems the sky and woods will always be the same dreary shade of grey, the eastern redbud is one of our first signs of the hope of spring.

The purple blossoms fill the woods overnight, scattered with the white of the occasional wild plum, cherry, or dogwood, and after a warm rain or two, the spring grass lends a complementary green. Trees, bushes and brambles start to bud out, and before long there is nothing but growth and birdsong. The eastern redbud then retreats gracefully, going unnoticed until fall, when clusters of seedpods hang below its heart-shaped leaves.

This is a beautiful tree, would probably make great shade in the yard. In thick woods, it sometimes gets very tall (up to 40-50 feet, according to my older tree book), and the blooms seem more sparse, then. Other places, it lives in the understory, and takes on an umbrella shape. The trunk is not thick. The seedpods are plentiful, legume-like, but not as long or large as the pods of the locust-tree, and they dry flat and brown. The leaves are large and heart-shaped. We do have one redbud here that I have seen not bearing seedpods, so I'm wondering if there are male and female trees.

Something about it reminds me of the catalpa tree. Must be the leaves, and the feel of "cool shade" when you're near it.

Trees

2008-05-28T11:12:00.004-04:00

I've always loved trees. Whenever I get a chance, I like to wander through our woods, and I'm always trying to identify the trees I see.

This week I found elm trees, sugar and silver maples, some large ash trees back behind the house, and discovered that two of the trees growing beside the old shed are a hackberry and a box elder. That poor box elder, it's right by the shed door, and I used to cut it down close to the ground, every summer. It kept coming back, and after letting it go one summer (or two?), I no longer have the heart to kill it; it's a "real" tree, now, and I have a climbing rose that has clambered up through the lower branches and bloomed out for the first time. Don't know what we'll do when it finally blocks that door...but I have a feeling that the tree will be around longer than the shed.

The locust trees have been in full bloom, and now the white petals are starting to float down into the garden whenever the wind blows.

This spring has been cool and wet, giving everything a chance to recover from last year's drought. We also didn't have another late freeze. Blossoms survived, and it looks like we will have nuts and fruit this fall.

I really need to start carrying my camera and a tree book. Wouldn't hurt to have binoculars, for those hard to spot leaves and flowers, twenty or thirty feet above me!

I do have some photos from previous walks. I think I'll start posting them here, it would be a neat way to keep track of them.

Conspiracy Theories

2008-05-26T01:33:00.001-04:00

Posted ? July 26th, 2008 by JennyWren

Okay, so I was all set to write a series of blog entries on the "conspiracy theories" I’d been researching, which mostly turned out not to be conspiracies or theories, but fairly blatant plans made by various groups. But in the process of trying to objectively follow one rumor or another to its "official" source, I started realizing that all of this stuff played right into my natural tendency to view things in a sort of survivalist way. By that I mean: expect the best, but plan for the worst.

I’m a bit of a hoarder, in a heard-stories-of-the-Great-Depression way. I’m convinced our nation’s food industry is killing us through what is lacking, as much as by what is added. I’ve collected books for years on do-it-yourself everything. I don’t need anyone to convince me that general preparedness for whatever may come is smart (although convincing me to get up and do more about it…that might help). The parts I skipped were politics and money. The two things that can actually decide whether or not you end up needing the skills I’ve been obsessing over. I’ve finally taken a peek at both, and wish I’d worked harder at so many things.

This is all one huge mess, it’s impossible to know where to start when describing it. Rather than dwelling on the negative and scaring myself out of my wits, though, I’m going to work on what was always my goal, whether we’re headed for chaos or not: raising a family in a way that makes sense, with what we have.

Ron Paul in Louisville

2008-05-20T12:27:00.011-04:00

Have I mentioned that I met Ron Paul? Let me mention it: I met Ron Paul. Yup, that's about as intelligent as I've been able to get for a couple of days. Saturday was an unforgettable day.

I rode to Louisville with a friend, and we got to the Border's bookstore in time to get a copy of Dr. Paul's latest book, The Revolution: A Manifesto, and to receive a number for standing in line (I was #449!) to have it signed. The line moved very quickly, but somehow he managed to give individual attention to everyone who stepped up to his table. He made eye contact, said hello, carefully signed the book (no scribbling), shook my hand, and thanked me for coming. I took a couple of pictures, and my friend and I left, happy. (But it gets better.)

We drove downtown to find parking, and walked over to the Louisville Palace Theater, where there was a rally scheduled. Tons of people were there, many of us with signs, T-shirts, flyers. We were a diverse group, but meeting fellow Ron Paul supporters is like meeting family. The local news interviewed one guy we knew, but I have to wonder if they aired anything. Someone from the NYTimes had been at the book signing, and was at the rally, as well (Revolution is #1 on their bestseller list this week!). There was a great feeling in the air when they finally opened the doors to the theater.

All I can say about the rally is that I'm thrilled I was there. Ron Paul's son, Rand, also spoke: we're going all the way to the National Convention, regardless of what happens. The poet, Ron Whitehead, did a reading of "Tapping my Own Phone," and three young ladies involved in the campaign performed a breathtaking, harmonized rendition of The Star-Spangled Banner, a capella. Ron Paul spoke for about 45 minutes, and the audience was on their feet with enthusiasm through much of the rally. He spoke on many topics, nothing his supporters hadn't heard, but it was good to hear the message in person, and who gets tired of hearing about liberty? People crowded up to the stage to meet him afterwards, but we stayed back; we'd already gotten the chance, earlier. (It still gets better.)

My friend had been invited to a meeting and dinner after the rally. We hopped on over to the restaurant, and since it was early yet, we stood around chatting with other people in a side room. That was nice in and of itself, but then I turned around, and guess who was standing there? :D That's all I'll say about it. (There, it got better.)

The meeting itself was fantastic, a chance for the core people from across the state to coordinate and make plans. It was also hugely educational for me; I really regret not being a delegate, myself. People who have never been involved in politics before are now involved and making changes. It's also amazing, the tricks the "Old Guard" will pull, to keep those changes from happening.

We wound down the day by waving some signs on a downtown corner (the NRA convention was also in town; some folks took their signs in that direction), and going to listen to some "liberty-loving bands" at a local club, where Ron Whitehead also read some more of his poetry. It was a long, exciting day, and we drove home exhausted, but knowing that there is so much still to be done.

Between the rally and the meeting, I've gotten a second wind, and had a bit of an epiphany. Yes, I knew this wasn't really about an election, but I still didn't really GET it, if that make sense. I was still paying lip service to the idea, still focused on the presidential campaign, when really it is only a vehicle for what we are trying to do. An important vehicle, and one that does get attention. But there is more, beyond any convention, beyond any one election. It really is a revolution.

Canning Adventures, Here We Come!

2008-05-15T09:14:00.005-04:00

Today's the day! I've got the chicken cooked, the veggies I need to make chicken soup, and a beautiful pressure canner that I haven't had the nerve to try using, yet.

A friend is on the way over with her canner; we're going to make a marathon of it. Hopefully I'll have some pics if I don't blow us up. ;)

Bees and Cell Phones

2008-05-11T22:46:00.000-04:00

See? I'm not completely insane! Cell phones ARE making the animals wacky!

Apparently, scientists are looking at cell phone radiation as a possible culprit in Colony Collapse Disorder (CCD). They went looking through previous work, and according to a study that had been done in Germany in 2003, when cell phones were placed near hives, as much as 70% of the colony failed to find their way home after foraging. Now I'm not sure how much radiation they were exposed to in order to have this effect, but that's what's happening with CCD, as well. The bees aren't dying in the hive, they just aren't there anymore. So it's possible something like this is at least involved.

Of course, I am also reading that certain pesticides used against aphids can cause bees to behave erratically.

I have to wonder, if we ever actually figure out what's causing this, and it turns out to be something we aren't willing or able to change...what happens?

Combine the fact that bees pollinate most everything except our grains, with the grain issues due to weather (not mentioning corn for ethanol, I'm not!), and I'd say we're in for a long, bumpy ride this year on food prices/supply.

Bees Update

2008-05-10T21:22:00.002-04:00

A friend said:

I suppose that’s alright if you will get to work on it later, right?

I suppose! LOL

Turns out I did work on it, but of course I waited until the last minute. I ended up ordering a complete new hive - get this, you can order them pre-assembled! for around the same price as unassembled - so that I wouldn’t panic, thinking I’d forgotten something. Besides, this way I will have extra "supers" (basically additional stories for their house, like the second box I added).

I also waited until the last minute to paint the hive. Something about that didn’t seem right, and sure enough, according to one of the books I have, the bees were likely to be "outraged" at the smell. Great. They were due in one day, and I had probably just royally offended them. The package arrived Monday, much to the joy of our local post office, I’m sure. The bees came in a box, with wire mesh sides:

They had a can of sugar syrup to keep them happy for a while, which was good. It was so cold here, I was worried about putting them in the hive, so they lived in my kitchen for a couple of days. Now THAT was interesting. Did you know they sleep sort of like bats? At least that’s what it looked like to me. They are quiet and still, and because they’re in a swarm, they hang like leaves, or almost like shingles on a roof. Once in a while, one will get fidgety, and a bee next to her will buzz irritatedly at her to settle down. Anyway, it was fascinating.

So on Wednesday afternoon, it was time to "install" the bees in their hive. I’d spent two days listening to them, talking to them, feeding them sugar water, reading the beekeeping forums at beemaster.com (the guy I linked to in an earlier post about smaller cell size posts there!), and watching installation videos on Youtube. That last one was a big help. Watched one more to get my nerve up, fired up the smoker, put on a long-sleeved button-up shirt, hat and veil, and got started.

I opened the package, was overcome by the swarm of Africanized killer bees that came boiling out, and was stung to death.

Okay, okay, it went just fine. I didn’t get stung at all, unless you count the bee I accidentally squished when I was picking up my supplies to go back inside. I felt a slight prick through my glove and found her. :(

All in all, it was a rush! I was ready to do two more when I finished. I could have climbed a mountain, right then! lol

My two youngest kids shouted instructions to me from a distance (they’d watched the videos, too), and my oldest took pictures, probably hoping for something she could send to America’s Funniest Home Videos. Anyway, if I can get that posted on Youtube at some point, I will.

I shook out the bees, but apparently I don't shake very hard; there were still tons of them in the box, so I propped it against the base of the hive. Here's a pic of the rest of the them marching into their new home, and checking out the paint job:

I went back out yesterday to make sure they had released the queen - ooh, I didn’t tell you about the queen. She comes in her own little cage, with a couple of attendants to care for her. In one end of the cage, there is a candy plug. I removed a cork covering it, and placed her cage between two frames in the hive. The bees then ate their way through the candy, and by the time she was released, they had become familiar with her, and accepted her as their queen. At least, that’s what I hope happened. At any rate, when I checked, she had been released.

I refilled their Mason jar of sugar water, moved it to the front entrance and removed the extra box I had used, took out the empty queen cage, and then pulled out a center frame to look for the queen. I didn’t see her (I asked to have her marked when I ordered, she has a yellow dot on her back), but the bees had started to draw a small amount of comb. I hope everything is well, I felt clueless standing there looking at it. Will have to do more reading, and check again in a few days.

Well, that’s it! I hope the pictures aren't too huge. It may not sound like much, but I definitely recommend beekeeping. It’s a strange combination of both an adrenaline rush(I’m going to get stung, I just know I’m about to be stung), and zen-like calm (just staaaaaay calm….you’re not being stung). LOL

On Being a Scanner

2008-05-10T09:23:00.010-04:00

I've always called myself a Browser, with a capital B. I'm never more happy than when perusing, picking through, and considering. That applies to everything from picking green beans to choosing a book at the public library, and I'm always looking for that next new thing to learn. Consciously or not, I can't help it; I'm always watching for something delicious.

When I've found that Next Great Thing, I jump in, taking all I can find (grab it while it's ripe!), staying up until the wee hours researching, studying, then planning and designing. I am completely focused on that subject for a few days, a week, a month or so. Then, when I've had enough, I move on. I'll come back later when I get a craving to revisit that particular topic.

My friends and family shake their heads and laugh, they can tell when I'm on another tangent, usually because I'm babbling excitedly about how fascinating it is. And really, there is no end to all of the glorious things left to be studied.

The downside to all of this fun is that I lose track of TIME, that annoying thing that everyone else seems to use to measure their lives. There's just not enough of it, is there? Certainly not enough to keep up with the dishes and laundry! The competing guilt and my lack of organization keep me frazzled, and it seems I never finish any of my great ideas or projects.

Turns out I'm not the only one who lives this way. A few months ago, I picked up a book by Barbara Sher, Refuse to Choose: Use All of Your Interests, Passions, and Hobbies to Create the Life and Career of Your Dreams, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that reading it has changed my life.

According to her, I'm a "Scanner" (my type is the Sybil Scanner, to be exact, and I've never been so relieved to sound like I have multiple personalities)!

If you've ever felt frustrated or inadequate because you never seem to stick to anything, you leave unfinished projects for something new, or you just can't seem to choose or commit to a career because you might be missing out on something else, you might very well be a Scanner, yourself.

Here's the part where Barbara Sher changed my life - being a Scanner isn't a bad thing!

What? You're kidding. You can't seriously mean that the stress of dealing with piles of books and craft clutter and laundry is a good thing. Inability to make a decision or be satisfied - those are character flaws, right?

Well, I was looking at it wrong. Those things are often the result of me trying to force myself to do things the "right" way, rather than allowing what feels natural to me. I'm wired differently than someone who is able to choose a project, move through it at a regular pace toward a set goal, and finish neatly. But my way of doing things is just as valid, and in my case, sometimes better!

Sher's book explains the perfectionism and guilt, and even our own mistaken assumptions about what we should be doing. But then she moves on to give pure inspiration to discouraged Scanners like me, with organizational tools that fit the way I think, and methods for developing the life I want to live. She even describes fulfilling careers for Scanners.

I've gone on long enough, but I'll just mention one of the tools in Refuse to Choose that I have found most helpful - after sketching out some ideas in my Scanner Daybook and making The Big List (okay, so I mentioned two more!), I condensed my interests into about 30 categories (like gardening, writing, homesteading, crafts, business ideas, etc.) that each cover more specific topics, and then I started making a 3-ring binder for each of those categories! I already had one for Homemaking, and had various notebooks floating around for my gardening and writing projects. But everything was scattered, just like my thoughts. Now I have a shelf started, just for my binders. When I come back to an interest, I know where to find it, and I can add notes, research, ideas, photographs of finished projects, anything I want to include. As Sher points out, over the years I will be creating my own books, and I will also have something to show for all of the time and work I put into things. Sounds so simple, but it was a light bulb for me, and has helped me organize my mind, and actually control my tangents a bit better - I have somewhere to jot down an idea, without going overboard when I don't have time.

Now I'm thinking about blogging in a similar way, maybe having a few blogs, each covering certain subjects. It might keep me from tangling up so many things in one post, anyway!

We'll see if I can pull off the balancing act of not spending more time writing than doing!

Spring Things

2008-05-07T11:14:00.004-04:00

Woo hoo! How's that for keeping up with things? It's been what - nine months?

I'll jump in again, might as well.

Just to keep my future self abreast of what was going on in 2008:

January: Ron Paul. Dove in completely. This transformed into
February's research on various "conspiracy theories", many of which turned out not to be conspiracies or theories, but flat out plans by various groups.
In March, I realized I wanted to keep bees again,
And by April, I was in full-tilt survivalist research,
Which brings us to May, where I have bought a canner and a grain mill, the bees are in their hive, and I have my veggie garden barely started!
(There are more than a few smaller tangents in there, like bento boxes, and Japanese crochet, but I'll skip those for now. You're welcome!)

Ooh, back up. Forgot that in December, we ended up buying a house in town. The internet situation here was not good, satellite created a lag that interfered with hubby's work. After having our hopes raised and dashed repeatedly by local phone companies, and cleaning the house enough for the guys to come in and install lines that wouldn't work (we are just a wee bit too far for most things), one company finally installed DSL that isn't as high-speed as "real" DSL, but has a great connection with no lag. By that time, though, we were already buying the house, because the quoted costs of various lines had been higher than a mortgage payment!

Anyway, we went ahead with the "town house" for a few reasons: hubby plans to use it as office space, we can set up a schoolroom there, it is within walking distance of the kids' activities, the theater, etc., and since it is zoned for business, I can have a little shop there!

Now, of course, these plans have been lying dormant, other than a bit of dejunking that resulted in a great yard sale on Saturday. And with the economy looking the way it does, did we make a mistake? Because yes, we kept this place...

So the plans for the shop have changed a bit. I'll go into that in another post, though. No, really!

A View of Today

2008-04-06T22:13:00.002-04:00

It wasn't until I sat down and looked back at the day that I realized how many little bits of "nature" had affected me today, even though I didn't go outside until late afternoon.

I talked to my mother this afternoon, she was ecstatic about the beautiful weather we're having, and excited to tell me that she and Dad had seen honeybees and blooms all over their yard today.

My oldest daughter spent the night with friends. Today, they went down to the river to look at how high it had gotten from all the rain we'd had (yesterday, some spots in town were underwater).
I phoned a friend, and we ended up talking about ponds and fishing. I have a great-aunt and great-uncle who fish together; wherever they live, they like to have a good pond nearby. I love to fish. I could stare at a bobber or the ripples on the water for hours, plenty of time for contemplation, no pressure to do anything else. It would be a nice way to spend old age. My husband doesn't like the idea of actually catching fish, but he'd come along to read a book. He's got the idea, he just doesn't know it. You can fish without bait or a hook, you know. ;)

I mowed some of the yard with the new reel mower. It's no harder to push than a gas mower, and works well, but the bolt that holds the little back wheel on keeps working its way out, so I guess I'll have to dig through the toolbox for something I can use to tighten it. The kids were fascinated with the whole thing, and followed me around, asking questions and pointing out spots that I'd missed. I explained the scissor-like cutting action, that it was a bit like giving the grass a haircut, and they let me know that the grass was thanking me, the barber. Apparently I couldn't hear the grass, so they translated, before running off to build more "anthills" under the swingset.

After we watched three deer cross the road, I took them walking to look for any signs of wild asparagus on a hill near our house. Nothing yet, but we'll keep checking. I collected seeds from the fall plants a couple of years ago, and I didn't know if they were still viable, but the ones I sowed this winter are germinating! Long, white radicles are reaching out and pushing into the soil. I wonder if the spears on the hill will come up at the same time as the sprouts. Hmm...

On the walk, we stopped to look at tiny spring flowers, and when we found acorns, the 6yo remembered last summer's acorn collection. Did we still have it? Sure! So when we got back, he decided that he and his little sister would plant them all, throughout the yard. I didn't put up too much of a protest; they're probably dried out, so I don't expect little oak trees everywhere. But you never know!

While they dug and planted, I sat down at an outdoor table and leafed through Eliot Coleman's Four-Season Harvest, thinking about all of those seeds and roots sitting in my kitchen, waiting to go into the ground. I heard a clicking noise and looked up to see my first bat of the year, fluttering around above our heads. There was still a good amount of light, and there was a reddish tint to its fur where last bit of sunlight was hitting it. Click, click. Click, click. That was interesting, I've never heard one do that before. Another bat showed up before long, but it was smaller, darker, flapped its wings more...frantically? I watched them swoop and dive for a while, that sudden stop-then-dart thing they do, then wider and wider circles over an area.

You know how, on summer nights, kids like to throw rocks in the air, then watch a bat dive down to follow it for a bit? I got a silly notion, and wondered if there were other ways to play with a bat. Would waves of any sort interfere with a bat's perception? How about cell phone signals? Don't laugh, it was the only thing I had on me. Okay, so just for the record, cell phone tones, at least, don't seem to send out anything particularly interesting, based on limited study. LOL I do wonder about waves in general, though, and got the idea it could make the basis of an interesting short story. Bats driven mad by personal devices invade city! ANYway.

So, I'll skip all of the birds, the spring peepers singing, the way the cat's pawprints look in the pressed-flat, wet clay spots in our yard. It's been a good day, with exhilarating air, and almost drowse-inducing sunshine. A day to be outside.

And a bit ago, I found the 6yo using scissors to give the grass a trim!

I'll Try It Again: Keeping Bees

2008-03-04T21:09:00.001-05:00

Okay, this one's getting started, because now it's official - a few minutes ago, I ordered a package of bees, to be shipped on April 29th. Woo hoo! I got an adrenaline rush, just making the call.

*gulp*

Okay, so now on to the details. I have my old hive, which has been damaged a bit by exposure and high winds. It's still usable, but I need a few new pieces, and I think I'll give it a fresh coat of white paint, even though the bees won't mind the grey of weathered wood.

I've also been doing some reading, trying to catch up with the current state of beekeeping. The big concerns last time were varroa and tracheal mites, treating your hives for them,and the concern that feral honeybees were disappearing across the country.

Those are still a concern, but now there's something bigger: CCD, Colony Collapse Disorder. Unexplained disappearance or dwindling of hives, on a large scale, and showing up everywhere. Coincidentally, in the UK, they're calling it "Marie Celeste syndrome" (that's the third time that name has come up for me this week, including on this board!).

Tons of theories flying, no one thing pinpointed yet. Is it the mites? Is it a new virus? Is it that they're foraging in pesticide-laden fields? With GMO crops? There does seem to be some sort of immunity compromise. But again, nothing conclusive. Then, other factors:

- It's more prevalent in commercial hives than in smaller hobbyists' yards.

- Beekeepers managing their hives organically are not reporting issues with CCD.

That has added other potential influences. Commercial keepers are more likely to feed their overwintering bees with HFCS (high-fructose corn syrup) than sugar syrup or honey (not to mention the fact that the corn used may be GM).

Commercial hives are moved often, being rented out to orchards and other farmers who need the pollination. This stresses the bees.

Non-organic beekeepers use more chemicals, pesticides, medication, etc.

Something that I didn't know, and found interesting: The standard starter combs used in the industry, [url=http://bushfarms.com/bees.htm]have larger openings than that drawn in a natural hive[/url]. This apparently produces larger bees, as well as leaving more time for mites to get into a cell before it is capped off. Organic keepers are now switching to the smaller cell size.

Many keepers are now using plastic starter frames, rather than wood and beeswax. Bees sometimes have a hard time adapting to the plastic. I tried a couple of frames last time, but the bees never really built on them.

And organic management means being far enough from pesticide-treated fields to avoid having it show up in the honey.

There are many other common practices that might be factors. Some may even be reducing the quality or quantity of propolis that the bees are producing - their natural sealant, used to protect the hive from germs or pests.

It already suits my nature to lean toward the idea that the more naturally you manage a hive, as with most things, the better results you are likely to have. Hopefully there is still room in our chemical-laden landscape to do that. Looks like I will have to do some digging into this idea of organic/natural beekeeping.

2008-03-03T21:02:00.001-05:00

Spastica said:

Holy C**p! They send you bees in the mail? A box containing 12,000 bees?

That’s insane! And so, so funny! I can’t even imagine the postal workers… "Whatever you do, don’t drop it…" "Wha? Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!"

I can’t stop laughing. That image is so funny.

The cool thing is that a swarm of bees, whether in a box, or hanging from your porch railing or from a tree branch, is actually not as dangerous as messing with a hive of bees. When you see one, you know they are on the move, looking for a new home. They are usually full of honey (or sugar water in the case of the box), stored up for the journey (and for building new honeycomb in their next home), and that keeps them pretty calm. Same reason you use smoke to work in a hive; something about it, possibly the instinct to evacuate the hive in the case of a fire, sets them to gorging themselves on honey, which keeps them busy, then calm.

Ever see one of those crazy people who make a "beard" of bees, or cover their head with them? Those bees are in a swarm. They’re just hanging out in a cluster, waiting for one of a few scout bees to come back and tell them she’s found the spot for a new hive.

If you do see a swarm hanging out around your house, and you’re worried about them building, say, in the walls of your house (or even if it’s just freaking you out), you can call a local beekeeper to come and get them. They are usually glad to come, because they can take the bees back to their own beeyard, to set them up in a new hive.

You’d also be doing the bees a favor; due to various mites and viruses, honeybees are in danger of being wiped out in the wild.

I'll Try It: First Things First

2008-03-02T20:45:00.000-05:00

Well, as soon as I declared this project, I went into rebel mode. Couldn't think of anything good to try, couldn't find any of the hundreds of lists I've already made. Go figure.

So, I decided to think about other things. Yesterday was a fairly warm day; it feels like spring is just waiting around the corner (Sorry, spastica! I know you just got more snow!). As great as that sounds, it also reminds me that I'm behind on all of my grand plans. Every year, February is "crunch" time, time to make final decisions on some of the projects I typically like to start. I'm supposed to already have all of this year's seeds ordered (I don't). If I want to order chicks for spring delivery, February's the time, but I think I'll hold off on that this year. So, what's left?

Bees!

If I want to keep bees, I need to order them in February! Ack! I hadn't decided! Was this the year I would take it up again? Was it too late to order?

Long story (sort of) short, I think I'm going to try it. Technically, the bees I kept the first time came to me already in their hive; I bought them from a keeper who helped me get started. This time, I would have to receive a 3 pound (@12,000 bees) swarm in the mail, in April...and put them in the hive myself...and I'm so there.

Looks like there will have to be categories in this blogging project. I think this one can fall under: I'll Try It, Again!

In the meantime, I’ll have to come up with some more immediate things to try. This really wasn’t a weasely attempt at procrastination.

I'll Try It!

2008-03-02T20:33:00.000-05:00

I have this crazy idea, and I'm going to run with it. It's inspired by a few things, including Make Magazine, and their series of short, do-it-yourself projects on Youtube, and also the website, 43things.com, where you set up a list of things you'd like to do in your lifetime, and then interact with others who have one or more of those same things on their list.

I'm planning on blogging about my attempts at various activities. Could be anything from making a Japanese bento box lunch, to skydiving, who knows? (Don't count on that last one) Not sure how often I'll add posts, or how long it will last. But I am still hoping that this will be the Year of Doing. Maybe this will be the boost I need, to get me going!

After I get an idea of how I'm going to do this, any suggestions for things to try will be cautiously considered...please, no jumping off of cliffs! :O

Links:

http://www.43things.com/

http://www.makezine.com/

A month later...

2007-08-04T18:02:00.000-04:00

Go figure.

Anyway, it's August, obviously. August 1 was our "official" first day of school, so there's been a flurry of activity. One birthday down, two to go by Sept 7. And our wedding anniversary is tomorrow. So...August should be busy.

I still don't have the time to post, but I intend to get to it this week. We'll see...

A Thing for Strings

2007-07-04T20:37:00.002-04:00

Okay, I'll jump right in. One of my current obsessions is string instruments. I've recently acquired two mountain dulcimers, after hovering over the keyboard, waiting with bated breath for the ebay auctions to end. I've also ordered books with plans for building various folk instruments, and this morning, made another ebay purchase: a beginner-sized hammered dulcimer (don't tell my husband, yet; I'm trying to figure out how to break it to him - it was such a DEAL!). All I'm missing is a bowed psaltery I can afford, and I think I'll about have this itch scratched. May have to build that one myself, though. (Ha! We'll see how that goes.)

I'd only had my hands on a mountain dulcimer once before, at my sister-in-law's house, years ago. Thought it was interesting, but I was on another tangent at the time, probably. Now it is an all-consuming interest. My husband laughed at how quickly it became an obsession, but then he knows me, and goes along for the ride. My friends and family laughed, too, but that's okay. I watched for a bargain, found two, and now we have more music in the house. Well, something approaching music. It'll take practice.

I want to have a music room, with various instruments available for the kids to pick up. I want us to learn to sing in harmony, sit on the front porch on summer evenings and entertain the raccoons and the tree frogs with traditional rounds, that kind of thing. I want, I want, I want. I've got plenty of ideas, not so much in the "doing" department.

I'm trying to learn to play "The Parting Glass", and although I realize I sound horrible in comparison, this duo on Youtube has inspired me, and my mother picked up a book at her library that has the tablature, it seems to be a similar arrangement.

(There's also a vocal version on Youtube that gives me goosebumps (that usually means harmony!), done by the Wailin' Jennys.)

-Took a break to set off a few fireworks for the kids.-

I would try to neaten this up and post a picture, but hubby is wanting the computer for a while, so I'll figure that out later!

Well, here goes...

2007-07-04T19:57:00.000-04:00

I've thought about keeping a blog before, but never quite followed through with it. Does anyone else get hung up when they're required to choose a name? That's not the only thing that's stopped me, of course. Mainly, I didn't know where I'd fit! We homeschool, but I often want to ramble about random things. I'm interested in homesteading, but I don't get much accomplished beyond dreaming. I want to write, but again, I have a hard time sticking to one focus! In the end, it's "just me", and whatever is on my mind at the moment.

I imagine it will take me a bit to settle in, figure out which buttons to push and knobs to turn. Ideally, this will be a place for me to jot down what's going on in my life, a sort of journal. Somewhere to vent, organize my thoughts, and look back through what's been happening. Hope I can stick with it.

So, we'll see. Here goes!

Things that Go Pacing in the Night

2007-02-23T01:22:00.000-05:00

Posted September 7th, 2008 by JennyWren

February 23, 2007

I did my (hopefully) last rounds for the night, and took a peek out the door before turning off the porch light. Habit, I guess, checking to see if there were any strangers skulking around in the radius of that weak little bulb’s range, or forgotten pets waiting to be let in. There was nothing Unusual, but as I dropped the curtain and turned away, a thought hit me. A feeling, actually, a fleeting impulse to go outside, that immediately dismissed itself; I almost didn’t notice it.

Why shouldn’t I step out - onto my very own porch, with my very own space and night around it? When had I stopped going outside for “no reason?” Had I resigned myself to always being needed in the house, on call? Allowed that feeling to spread and swallow up all the free parts of me? Maybe I’d gotten old, jaded. No - and I’d been inspired that week by people who would take the experience; who wouldn’t stand here wondering.

On that whim, I quietly slipped out into a night that engulfed me. A momentary rush of fear I didn’t expect (am I afraid of the dark?), at the vastness of it, held me with my back against the door for a moment, my hand on the knob. But then I regained some sense of self, and stepped out onto the porch that was my island. Actually, it suddenly felt more like a rocking ship, and me on deck with nothing to hold on to. I stubbornly braced my feet and found my balance, then looked out into black, unfamiliar waters.

It was cold - I hadn’t expected that, either. There was a thin layer of frost on the van in the driveway. I was surprised to see my breath in the air in front of me; I held it for a moment, to listen.

The night is deafening in its silence, sometimes. You brain scrambles frantically to find some familiar noise, one sound for an anchor. The dark’s heaviness pulses with the distant lights of town. For a fearful moment, you think you’ve lost your hearing. Then the sounds finally come. Barking; a dog down the road; was it there all along?

I heard a hoof scrape the ground nearby; one of the horses shifting its weight, a sigh. It was too cold, yet, for the insects, the spring peepers, the bullfrogs that we’d start hearing within the month.

I’m trailing, because it’s after the fact; I’m back inside and can ramble.

But in the moment…

The moment was exhilarating! Why do we spend the majority of our time indoors? We are supposed to have a natural connection, be on comfortable terms with that air, that space. With stars there every night, reminding us to be humble.

But I’m back inside this turtle shell of a house, where the fresh air can’t cure my cough, and the hills can’t give me strength. I’ve pulled myself away from the real things in my life, dwelling in the virtual, indulging in a spending spree of Time.

——————————-

And now, for something not so different:

Tonight I see the hours going by like those sinister monkeys in The Wizard of Oz. I know if I stay up much later, I’ll see worse.

My own personal demons come to me late at night, in the forms of Clarity and Perception of Time. I wouldn’t introduce them to my worst enemy. If I fail to escape them through sleep, or if they catch me waking at 3 am, they dance around me and play pictures on the walls: All the Things I Haven’t Done, All the Things I Should Have Done. The State of Things as They Really Are. But that’s only the beginning.

They then show me images of my children growing and changing, loved ones aging; show me moments I can’t get back or take back. The films speed up: pain of others, sorrow. Then on to hidden horrors and fears - if I can outlast the acceleration, lie there holding still as possible, it all pulls toward the black hole of sleep. But more often than not, after tossing and turning a bit, I jump up to pace, needing to shake it off. I roam the house, and end up here at the kitchen table, wishing I drank or smoked, had any little habit to take my mind away.

Aha! A visit to literalminded might be the cure tonight!

Worrying a Bone

2007-02-17T01:21:00.000-05:00

Posted February 17th, 2007 by JennyWren

This is me, jabbing here, prodding there, circling the idea until there's a worn path around it. Testing for my own reactions when the idea responds. Who knows if I'll go through with it; I've been here before.

Often when I have something I want to try, I'll let it sit and simmer like this…the sewing machine in the corner of the kitchen, the violin in its case in the livingroom. Occasionally, I'll practice threading the machine, browse through some patterns I've picked up. Once in a while, I'll put rosin on the bow and play around for an hour or so. But mostly, they're there, in view, until my comfort with the tools' presence outweighs my perfectionism and fear of failure. I have tons of hobbies lying around, in various stages of development. I cycle through them; when the mood hits, I pick one up again, and learn a little more. Things may get dusty, but I never completely abandon them.

Writing's not like that. It's not a hobby. It doesn't have a lot of paraphernalia I can leave lying around, giving me a sense of control. I can't pick it up and drop it on a whim. It either is, and I am it, or it isn't. Very overwhelming. :( Where did I get these grandiose ideas???

Basketball Practice Tonight

2007-02-15T01:19:00.000-05:00

Posted February 16th, 2007 by JennyWren

Today, I might have done it; might have let the words fall out of me as they wanted, written that little rat-a-tat-tat thing that's been waiting. But then the Frenchness of a little -ette word perched there at the end of a line raised its eyebrows at me expectantly, startling me, and I looked around and realized that it just wouldn't do; there was dinner to be cooked, there were errands to be run. So not today, little -ette, in answer to your questioning tone. Shouldn't think it would have been sensible, anyway.

Something Else

2007-02-15T01:17:00.000-05:00

Posted February 15th, 2007 by JennyWren

I feel I'm sinking in a mire,

But I'm not really sinking. I float

At the top, arms outstretched,

Slowly turning.

I must be waiting,

Bobbing in the brownness they called a new dress.

Don't Analyze This

2007-01-31T01:15:00.001-05:00

Posted January 31st, 2007 by JennyWren

Ode to Procrastination

(or: How the Author Avoids Housework)

An ant, intent upon his work,

went marching past my hand.

I wondered at these folk, who have

done so much more than man.

They've seen it all, they've passed it down

The generations through.

Their lives must have some meaning,

Could their patterns be a clue?

Tap, tap - no, left!

Tap, tap - it's here

And so the work goes by;

No wonder at what went before,

No pause to question, "Why?"

It seems they know a simpler truth

That is not mine to grasp,

And oft I've wondered whether I

Would know it, in the last.

How about we start a Really Bad Poetry night? *grin*

Dentists

2007-01-29T01:11:00.002-05:00

Posted January 29th, 2007 by JennyWren

I have a toothache. I guess. Is that the technical term for it nowadays? Seems I'm missing an entire vocabulary, every time I deal with anyone in a medical profession. Words that should be simple are replaced with something that takes three times as long to say. Like telling a woman in labor that her pain is "discomfort." I love words, but I'm sorry, when I'm in pain, I don't have time for extra syllables.

So here I sit, holding the side of my head and rocking back and forth. I've taken ibuprofen, and I've used something meant for canker sores, that has numbed the entire left side of my face, but my jaw still hurts. There's not much left to do, but call…the DENTIST. (*sudden, discordant organ music plays*)

That is, if there is such a thing left. I've been to a dentist twice in the last twenty years (I figured it up, while I was pacing). The first time, I was given "laughing gas", but a bit more than they intended. While the dentist and his assistant were talking about a baseball game, I was going two-dimensional. They apologized profusely, filled the tooth, and sent me home shaking.

More recently, I went in for the same kind of pain I'm having now, only after several days. Boy, have things changed. Technology-wise, it's great. They take x-rays, and can show them to you immediately on a laptop computer. But what has happened to the good, old-fashioned office visit? A cleaning, maybe a tooth filled or pulled, that nagging reminder to floss?

This dentist came in and sat down behind me, where I couldn't see her. She proceeded to tell me about the "Plan" we were going to set up. Ladies and gentlemen, when you hear the word "Plan" in a dentist's office, you know nothing good is going to come of it. It usually means something like: We will make you an appointment with an "oral surgeon" to have the first tooth "extracted", then you will come back and we will go from there, with a series of visits.

Am I the only one who sees a sale going on here? Yes, I know you are supposed to go to the dentist regularly. But a "plan"? It sounds more like a subscription.

My husband has had the same experience, repeatedly (he keeps forgetting who his dentist is, and calling a new one, LOL) The newer dentists apparently are more like "project managers". They assign other professionals (oral surgeons, orthodontists, cosmetic dentists) to various parts of your mouth, and make the referrals for you. They apparently don't even pull teeth anymore (Oh, sorry, I meant "extract")! You could walk into the office with an emergency appointment, because your cousin Bubba accidentally knocked three of your teeth out while you were playing pool, and the dentist would calmly set up a plan for biweekly visits over the next 18 months.

On the other hand, he has found a few who still "do their own work". My husband can walk in, get a tooth pulled (not have them "start" a root canal that will take three visits to finish), and come home to do the gauze/no straws thing for a day.

I think I'm hoping for that kind of luck. I've been sitting here with the phone book, waiting for human hours (thank you for helping me pass the time!), because I'm going to call a dentist in town, and ask for *shudder* an appointment.

Here's the interesting thing: the dentist I'm going to call first was an obvious choice for me, because, well, his name is William Faulkner! Go figure. :) I sure hope he has an opening. Somehow I don't think I'll mind if he says "extract" when he means "pull", or "abcess" when he means "infection". Hey, it's Faulkner!

My Library

2007-01-27T01:03:00.002-05:00

Posted January 27th, 2007 by JennyWren

Inspired by Petroglyph's adding a (web link) to LibraryThing, but much less organized than that program, I thought I'd have a little more listing fun by sharing some of the titles on my shelves.

Now, don't worry, Icon, I'm not about to catalog every book in my house! ;) I don't think it would be possible. Does anyone else have the "book problem"? Even after selling or giving away truckloads of them, I still don't have room to unpack all of the boxes upstairs.

Aside from thousands of kids' books, cookbooks, homeschooling books, classics, fiction, and that set of Great Books of the Western World that I finally mooched off of my mother, I do have one shelf full of "my books", in the livingroom. This holds the books that I want within reach at all times, that I refer to or pull off when I need something to read. Sometimes it also includes current fiction or a new book that I'm in the middle of, but mostly it's turned into a reference shelf, of sorts. I've noticed the same tendency in my husband; he's a fiction fan, but the books that he keeps near his desk are always related to his current interests and work: programming, writing, anime drawing.

Anyway, I apparently have more "current interests" than him, because my books take up quite a bit more room! ;)

So while you're visiting, here's a glimpse at what's there now (they used to be organized, but shelf height, random reading, and general household chaos fixed that pretty quickly):

First shelf:

* The Complete Tightwad Gazette, by Amy Dacyczyn
* Profits from Your Backyard Herb Garden, by Lee Sturdivant
* Herbally Yours, by Penny C. Royal
* Encyclopedia for the Home, by Maud C. Cooke, the Educational Company (1902)
* ABC and XYZ of Bee Culture, by A. I. Root (1975 edition)
* Tom Brown's Field Guide to Wilderness Survival, by Tom Brown
* Backyard Composting, by HarmoniousPress
* A Light in the Attic, by Shel Silverstein
* Bible
* Handbook of the Trees of the Northern States and Canada, East of the Rocky Mountains, by Romeyn Beck Hough, B.A.
* Helping Orphaned or Injured Wild Birds, by Diane Scarazzini
* Care of the Wild Feathered & Furred: a Guide to Wildlife Handling and Care, by Mae Hickman and Maxine Guy
* McMahon's American Gardener, by Bernard McMahon (reprint)
* Midwifery and Herbs, by Willa Shaffer
* The Glory of the Garden, edited by Bronzert and Sherwin
* The Writer's Market Companion - Hey, that's not mine!
* Herbs for Sale, by Lee Sturdivant
* Chickens in Your Backyard: A Beginner's Guide, by Rick and Gail Luttmann
* Time and Again, by Jack Finney
* The Backyard Orchardist, by Stella Otto
* The Backyard Berry Book, by Stella Otto
* Natural First Aid, by Brigitte Mars
* Peterson First Guides: Wildflowers
* Beekeeping: The Gentle Craft, by John F. Adams
* Trees of North America, a Golden Guide to Field Identification
* Robert Frost: The Road Not Taken and other Poems, Dover reprint of Mountain Interval
* Sink Reflections, by "Flylady", Marla Cilley
* Back to Basics: How to Learn and Enjoy Traditional American Skills, Reader's Digest

Second shelf:

* Basket full of catalogs: gardening, beekeeping, chickens, homeschooling, junk
* The Indoor How-to Book of Oats, Peas, Beans, and other Pretty Plants, Hazel Perper
* Christy, Catherine Marshall
* Park's Success with Seeds, Ann Reilly
* Edible Wild Plants, Oliver Perry Medsger
* The Complete Herbal Handbook for Farm and Stable, Juliette de Baraclai Levy
* The Complete Book of Annuals, Rockwell & Grayson
* Hmm, there are a couple of poetry books missing here…101 Famous Poems, for one.

Shelf three:

* Ooh, some pictures of my kids were tucked in here!
* The "Have-More" Plan, Ed and Carolyn Robinson
* The Encyclopedia of Country Living, Carla Emery - a wonderful book
* An issue of Hobby Farms magazine, on dairy goats
* Square Foot Gardening, Mel Bartholomew
* Catfish Ponds and Lily Pads: Creating and Enjoying a Family Pond, Louise Riotte
* Fences, Gates, and Bridges and How to Build Them, George A. Martin
* How to Grow More Vegetables,etc., John Jeavons - newest addition to the shelf!
* Four-Season Harvest, Eliot Coleman (also new)
* Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening, Rodale Press
* Nourishing Traditions: The Cookbook that Challenges Politically Correct Nutrition…, Sally Fallon
* Insert more gardening books here, this is getting old…
* Natural Horse*Man*Ship, Pat Parelli
* Gnomes, Poortvliet and Huggen
* Seed to Bloom, Susan Powell
* Seed to Seed, Suzanne Ashworth
* Life Skills for Kids, Christine Field
* Not for Packrats Only, Don Aslett
* Some more gardening and herb books
* Clutter's Last Stand, Don Aslett

Last shelf (whew, not much here):

* A bunch of home improvement, weatherizing, construction, do-it-yourself, etc. books.
* the next few are Reader's Digest Books:
* Strange Stories, Amazing Facts
* Mysteries of the Unexplained
* The World's Last Mysteries
* Mysteries of the Ancient Americas
* American Folklore and Legend
* America's Fascinating Indian Heritage
* The Step-by-Step Needlecraft Encyclopedia, Judy Brittain

And there you have it! The other books I refer to regularly are related to homeschooling, painting or crochet, I keep them in different spots. And the nature guides have ended up in the kids' rooms.

What's on your shelf?

Snow and Hot Chocolate

2007-01-24T00:59:00.001-05:00

Posted January 24th, 2007 by JennyWren

The kids have been in and out all day, giggling and shivering, their cheeks red and their eyes bright. We finally had enough snow for a snowball fight! So there is a trail of wet gloves, scarves and coats leading from the door to the kitchen, where the hot chocolate is. ;)

The horses seem to enjoy the kids being outside, I guess they agree that it's perfect playing weather. Of course, right now, they're more interested in the hay we finally put out for them.

Why is it that in the middle of the night, ideas seem so clear, stories make sense, scenes are vivid…and yet when you wake up and try to capture them on paper, they all fall apart? It's like trying to write down your dreams - while it seemed logical at the time, a newsstation reporter painting a serial killer brown to stop the murders doesn't translate so well in a story.

Anyway, I don't usually come up with "complete" story ideas, but last night I thought I'd hit upon one (no, not the serial killer, lol). Now I realize it would probably do better as a country song. :) Maybe I'll try that route, instead.

——————————————————

"Blogging" is a new thing for me. I've read a few, and even have a couple that I check regularly, but I've never attempted keeping one before. I'm wondering how boring I'll be allowed to get… LOL

I found an interesting article from 2000(in a blog, of course!) about the origins of blogging:

Weblogs: A History and Perspective

I don't think I'll be keeping the informational type of blog, I'm not up on the latest anything. But I'd like to keep a meandering thoughts kind of blog, if it doesn't drive everyone too batty. ;)

I'm thinking that regular writing of any sort is good exercise, so look at it that way. A bit like a journal, and therefore rambling and random, since it's mine!

A New Year, A New List

2007-01-12T00:50:00.002-05:00

Posted January 12th, 2007 by JennyWren

Today is when my New Year really begins. Every year, on January 12, I'm a little bit older, although I doubt I'm any wiser.

Usually I spend the day getting lots done around the house, determined to make this day "the first day of the rest of my life," etc. This year, it's a little different; I'm feeling run down from a week of sitting up with a sick kid. But my brain still wants to accomplish something. And what better to satisfy that need, than a good old-fashioned list?

While I'm at it, I think I'll make a few, just to give myself a bit of a marker, something to gauge "progress" by. If I don't like how that makes me feel, there's always the delete button! ;) And today I can make my lists with ease, thanks to our new text editor!

Here goes nothin'…

Big things I need to/would like to accomplish this year

1.

Um…okay, that's a little too much pressure. LOL

How about this, then:

Projects

1. Winter sowing
2. House cleaning
3. Homemaking - really need to focus on this
4. Homeschooling - I'm having the usual middle-of-the-year curriculum doubts; must decide.
5. Working (and writing) on this site
6. Cooking and eating better, more natural food
7. Growing more of our own food
8. Actually getting things planted out this year
9. Starting new flowerbeds
10. Starting seriously composting
11. Painting
12. Organizing all of these hobbies
13. SEE HOW THIS IS TURNING INTO A TO-DO LIST?
14. Help hubby finish horse shed
15. Work out a way to set up hoophouses, coldframes, or a high tunnel

Crafts I'm in the middle of:

1. Huge tiger latch hook rug for 10yo
2. Two different cross stitch tigers for 10yo
3. Cross stitch of a piece of cake
4. Cross stitch of golden retriever for sis? May be too hard.
5. Crochet - rose, green and white afghan
6. Crochet - Black, grey and white cat afghan for 10yo
7. Baskets full of yarn need to be decided on
8. Paint fox by door in livingroom.
9. Repaint kids' room walls
10. Paint Bambi or some such with projector, in kids' room
11. Make some aprons with sewing machine - I have the materials, just need to do it
12. Make curtains

Wow, this is cool.

How about seeds I've wintersown so far this year:

1. American Bittersweet (Celastrus scandens)
2. Ivy from Mom's house
3. Poppy - Lauren's Grape
4. Hazelnut
5. Hazelnut
6. Almond
7. Lavender (Lavendula stoechas)

There, I feel better already. :)

Okay, rolling up sleeves for some real listing…watch out: ;)

In a lovely world with limitless time, I would:

1. Choose the perfect curriculum and teaching style for each of our kids, and follow through with the daily schedule, or say forget "standards", let's just live; you'll learn!
2. Grow or raise all or most of our own food.
3. Get more bees
4. Train the horses, using natural horsemanship methods
5. Paint
6. Write
7. Dance
8. Sit out in the woods for an entire day, just breathing, and watching.
9. Banish telephones
10. Make lots of garden beds
11. Go fishing!
12. Invite friends to come and sit a spell (and keep my house clean enough to do that spontaneously)
13. Spend most of my time outside (the opposite is true now), I have a theory about what's natural and healthy
14. Never sleep, unless it's for the relaxation or cuddle time
15. Love on my kids more, and read them more books

Now, see, that's not an impossible list (except for the sleep part, but I'm betting it would be more relaxing). I just have to forget about all of the other lists, the "to do" lists, and the wants, needs, shoulds, etc. Hmm. Worth pondering!

A Thoreau Look at Things

2006-12-20T01:25:00.001-05:00

Posted December 20, 2006 by JennyWren

I’ve been reading Walden, by Thoreau, which the library wants back (*sob*), and which is so good it’s almost painful to read. Every word that man wrote seems to “reverberate within my soul”. I find myself reading a page or two, and then putting the book down, not because of any lack of interest, but because his writing amazes me. Very few authors affect me that strongly. I have an inkling that Wendell Berry is about to be added to that list; I’m just waiting to get my hands on some of his work in actual book form.

I’ve had that nagging feeling that I should be blogging or posting something about the book; maybe it would help me better keep track of my thoughts on it, or just bring up interesting discussion on authors. I was going back to look up this sentence, which I ran across this evening: “How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book!” but instead ran across another passage that struck me, with a coincidence attached (which is in the quote at the end of this post).

Thoreau was writing on his once having almost “owned” a farm; in fact, he did, until the farmer’s wife changed her mind about the sale. His description of why he originally fell in love with the place is a perfect example of why I feel such connection with his words…he described precisely the notions I had about the place where we live now: “The real attractions of the Hollowell farm, to me, were: its complete retirement, being about two miles from the village, half a mile from the nearest neighbor, and separated from the highway by a broad field; its bounding on the river, which the owner said protected it by its fogs from frosts in the spring, though that was nothing to me; the gray color and ruinous state of the house and barn, and the dilapidated fences, which put such an interval between me and the last occupant; the hollow and lichen-covered apple trees, gnawed by rabbits, showing what kind of neighbors I should have; but above all, the recollection I had of it from my earliest voyages up the river, when the house was concealed behind a dense grove of red maples, through which I heard the house-dog bark. I was in haste to buy it, before the proprietor finished getting out some rocks, cutting down the hollow apple trees, and grubbing up some young birches which had sprung up in the pasture, or in short, had made any more of his improvements.”

We have no river bounding our place, but if you’ve seen it, you’ll know that I have a certain fondness for dilapidated buildings; they have character. I also remember a day last year, when the persistent rumble of bulldozers had me worried. I went out in the yard at different points during the day, the noise kept getting closer to our house. Early the next morning, trees on the neighboring lot (still for sale) were swaying, then cracking with that horrible dying sound that trees have. I was on the phone with the realtor, who kept assuring me that they were just “defining some of the property lines”, while trees continued to fall. A neighbor stopped by, and confirmed my fears that something more was going on than a little “defining”.

Beyond our house, and the next in line for improvement, was a completely wooded lot, with no “suitable” spot for a house or driveway. What would they do to the woods I already loved, the oaks and hickories and a secret little grove of pawpaws, where the trees were so thick there was not sun enough for brambles, and your steps were so quiet you could surprise a deer? What about the “waterfall oak”, where the leaves clung on determinedly through the winter, the sound of the wind blowing through them once causing my son to think we must be somewhere near flowing water?

I took one more walk, trying to make up my mind. I couldn’t leave the children for long, so I brought a two-way radio with me, and ran down through the ravine, hurriedly searching for the property lines, trying to get a more definite feel for the place, arguing with myself the validity of spending the money to “save” a piece of land. I looked at trees, I cut across trails; I was out of breath by the time I hit the top of the next ridge. I considered lumber values…could I justify years of extra payments with those, knowing that we would probably never cut a single tree? I ran through a clearing, pausing long enough to see that it was still the perfect spot for a hidden house…then down the hill…all the while, I could still hear those bulldozers. My shoes were soaked; the dew was still on the grass and weeds. Then I came to the old fence line. There are old oaks here that belong in some fairyland, the line runs across the remnants of what was once a farm. Below this line, there is a ravine that is dark, cool, and silent. The ground is covered in moss, and the tree roots provide homes for little folk, my daughter and I are sure.

All the way back up the hill, and toward home, I debated with myself, told myself how crazy it is to fall in love with trees. I came up with all of the practical arguments I knew my husband would have when - if - I called him at work. But then I took one last side trail, back into the trees that would certainly be the first to go…and saw the light there, the stuff they call “dappled” in the summer, and that as you go deeper into the woods takes on a mystical feel…am I a romantic? I had to make the call.

We now “own” that other piece, but we haven’t touched it, other than to gather hickory nuts and explore the trails. There may be a day when we build a house back in that clearing. Or maybe not. But at least it’s there. What is a clearing without the woods around it?

“To enjoy these advantages, I was ready to carry it on; like Atlas, to take the world on my shoulders, - I never heard what compensation he received for that, - and do all those things which had no other motive or excuse but that I might pay for it and be unmolested in my possession of it; for I knew all the while that it would yield the most abundant crop of the kind I wanted, if I could only afford to let it alone.”

Impressions

2006-12-04T00:44:00.002-05:00

Posted December 4th, 2006 by JennyWren

I seem to have given the wrong impression in my last post. No, I promise you, I am not about to go to the nearest bridge and throw myself and everything I’ve ever written over the edge. It was just a disclaimer; I set it up in advance, so that I wouldn’t need to clutter up every post with an apology. It’s also there for critics, shoulder-riding demons, and close relatives. :) Besides, I don’t fancy the idea of chasing soggy pages down an eighteen-inch-deep river.

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I sometimes worry about giving people the wrong impression. For example, those close to me would obviously perceive me as a bit of a stoic. Now, while it’s true that I daily bear all sorts of insults on my person, barely mentioning the discomfort caused by such inconveniences as the soup’s being cold or the mail’s running late, still I would hate to leave someone feeling inferior, next to my admittedly intimidating ability to endure, and so I’ll often make a fuss over some minor thing that would normally not draw a peep from me, in order to keep up an approachable appearance. This is why one may occasionally hear me yelling in an exaggerated manner over a typically (for most people) serious injury like falling out of bed, or taking a gulp of coffee before it has had time to cool. It is a rare occurrence, you’d be lucky to catch it; normally you couldn’t be sure that I was home, the house is so quiet. The neighbours may claim otherwise, but there, you see, is proof that my theory is highly accurate and and most certainly necessary; the neighbours are a particularly disadvantaged and inferior lot; in truth, most of these displays are put on specifically for their benefit. Including, and especially, the incident involving the rake, the cat, and myself.

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Moving on…

It was interesting to be out shopping yesterday, something I normally wouldn’t dare during December. I survived it by observing other harried shoppers; Spastica’s dialogue exercise had me listening to their words:

"Didn’t he break the last one we bought him?"

"I don’t know why I’m here; I’m getting really frustrated."

A couple considering a toy:
"I don’t know. He’s ten…"
"Well, does he act ten?"

On the way home, a friend talking to her son on her cell phone gave me a classic line to remember:

"Yes, we’ll be there soon. We’re just now passing the underground house. You know, the one where Uncle Tooter had a wreck."

She had to clarify which wreck, to assure him that we were close to home, but once she hung up, I asked her about it, and got the story. It involved a tractor-trailer (I’m still not sure who was driving it), a pond, and so much damage the cops couldn’t tell what had really happened. Anyway, I’m sure I will forever remember the landmark.

Then we were slowed down, apparently behind her aunt’s pick-up truck, and chatting about her friends and relatives who lived in houses we were passing. I still find it amazing, that anyone born and raised around a small town seems to know or is related to everyone. And has a relative who at some point lived in your house.

The contrast between this small-town, rural area, and the large store we had just been to, in a city 45 minutes away, was hitting me in an interesting way. While shopping, I saw people who looked like they had stepped out of a magazine or television screen. They were wearing clothes and hairstyles that I’ve never really seen outside of a movie. They looked like celebrities or dolls, I’m not sure which, with new outfits and hair colors. I felt like Dorothy, straight out of Kansas. Either I don’t get out enough, or maybe life in the country is slower than I thought. That’s okay, it helps me with my time-avoidance strategy.

Anyway, it’s Monday now. Back to the grind, as they say. That means coffee, right?

I’ll take tea.

Chapter V: Where the Writer has a Sobering Thought...

2006-12-02T00:36:00.000-05:00

Posted December 2nd, 2006 by JennyWren

Yesterday, life was like the weather, practically balmy, albeit dull. But sometime during the night, the winds came, bringing cold. At first it was exhilarating; even the horses felt that last rush of warmth in the air; they kicked up their heels and tossed their heads, actually playing with the wind. We watched them for a while from the window, and knew we had to get out and enjoy it, too.

Then later, ice, and a phone call.

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Well, I apologize for my last post. I was a bit delirious. I was fighting a fever, and was up too late, a combination that should not be allowed near a keyboard.

The fever had me convinced that I was at the peak of heightened awareness, full of grand plans and brilliant thoughts, my senses keen. But I sounded like a drunken idiot; it doesn’t take much more than a lack of sleep to make me slap-happy.

Hmm…maybe I’ll become the Drunken Blogger. *hic*

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I’ve been thinking about it, and I suppose that if I want to make a go of this, I’ll have to set up a regular habit of "blogging." This will probably need to coincide with me keeping a "journal" of sorts on my computer. I find it amusing that I worry about computer files being wiped out, when I won’t even write with an ink pen because it’s too permanent. The general idea is that I want to be able to refer to my own thoughts (narcissist that I am), but I don’t want them to stick around much longer than I do.

I should probably pause here, to insert a universal disclaimer:

Anything I write/post in this blog will be garbage…or worse.

There, that was surprisingly easy! I avoided all the trouble of explaining my weaknesses, assuring the world that I am aware of the awfulness of it all. :) So, if, Dear Reader, you come across something that is eye-scaldingly bad, you musn’t say that you haven’t been warned. Because, of course, everyone will naturally want to begin at the beginning, and will see this before anything else. Oh, that previous post? That was to scare off those with a weaker stomach. ;)

Well, there it is. And so our adventures begin…

Midnight Confessions

2006-11-30T00:34:00.000-05:00

Posted November 30th, 2006 by JennyWren

Well, since my husband has taken my spot on the couch, and I’m up anyway, I might as well see what comes out of my fingers tonight.

Midnight confession[als]. We’ve all got colds here, and I think a slight fever is leaving me susceptible to doom and gloom. Playing beautiful music isn’t helping. It seems to be a catalyst for emotional "outbursts" (overflows).

Everywhere I look, in everyone around me, there is corruption. Bitter or jaded hideousness, even in myself. How can it coexist with beauty? Not as contrast…they seem almost like alternate realities, ghosts in each other’s world.

When I’m feeling all "morose" like this, I am overcome with the need to spill out what is really there; it looks like emotion, but feels like meaning. I don’t think there really is anything there anymore. When I was younger, I thought there was more to me, I had so much…so much I wanted to do something with, to share. Now I am only a shell; anything that was inside is paralysed or stunted, or has atrophied by now.

My inability to face or accept reality has left me with the grief of time lost, things I haven’t done, and by virtue of that, things that have been done, and that I can’t take back.

A different record drops on the turntable, and the mood changes. A sweet tune about nothing in particular, but the notes bring on an overwhelming amount of emotion. Music can carry us or drown us. Why do we let it?

I am saddened by words spoken tonight. But how can you blame someone for speaking their truth? It may even be your truth, as well, only unrecognizable because of the lack of mask.

Thanksgiving Leftovers...

2006-11-25T00:22:00.000-05:00

From A Wren's Nest
Posted November 25th, 2006 by JennyWren

Thanksgiving is already a snapshot in the family photo album, even though we’re still sitting at the table, gorging ourselves on the third or fourth piece of pie.

For some reason, at family gatherings like this, I can see my children as what they truly are: a moment that’s here and gone. I watch them, take in their shining faces, their exuberance, their natural ease with joy. (When’s the last time you felt at ease with joy, really at ease? Able to let it wash over you and through you until you gave a yell and a jump, and took off running, laughing, just “because”.)

I can see how they’re growing, what we haven’t done that I thought we would. I can love them without anxiety here; we’re separated from real time now, suspended in that glow of a holiday at Grandma’s. None of the day-to-day guilt, pressure, worries or disappointments can penetrate that temporary armor to touch any of us.

Sitting at the grown-up’s table, I hear the usual chatting about nothing, everything’s nothing. And yet time is flying past us so quickly, and we through it, that I wonder we don’t wear seat belts, and clutch onto things, for fear of being blown away or thrown from the vehicle. This may be the last time we see each other. But we talk about after-Thanksgiving sales and football games, and play a game of Uno.

Sharing the here-and-now is sharing connection, I know. It just seems so unreal. I check occasionally, but the plaid tablecloth and the fork in my hand seem solid. The iced tea in my glass still reflects light in the same way, as the ice cubes swirl lazily around. We’re here. It’s real. I look up again, and watch my cousins’ faces moving, talking. I can hear my children shouting, outside on the swingset; it’s a gorgeous, sunny day, and the windows are open. People’s voices are humming around me…in fact, everything becomes a hum as I start to contemplate Iconoclast’s clock.

It’s ticking. What am I doing? What am I being? Okay, fair enough, I’m “doing” a family gathering, I’m being human. But beyond that…
should I be thinking beyond that? Is the big picture more important than any given moment? The actions of a moment determining the bigger outcome, while our perception of the big picture drives our actions of the moment… blah, blah, blah. My stomach’s too full for the inevitable spiral of thoughts like this, which normally require lots of chewing. Darn you, Icon.

A New Day

2006-11-09T00:53:00.000-05:00

Posted November 9th, 2006 by JennyWren

Well, that didn’t work. So much for stream of consciousness. I guess my laziness outweighs my fear of sounding like an idiot.

Instead of working on the piece about the chair, I found myself writing about a beat-up, uneven dance floor in a seedy part of Buenos Aires, tango music cutting through the haze of cigarette smoke, that kind of thing. The trouble is, I know nothing about any of these things…can’t dance, have never been to Buenos Aires; it was almost completely inspired by someone else's travel adventures. Doesn’t that constitute plagiarism? Ack!

I will try something again later, during human hours. So glad this blog is here to document my insanity. LOL

*Time passes…*

Okay, here’s something that popped up. Since the number one “rules” for starting out seem to be 1) don’t write in first person, and 2) Don’t write in present tense, I thought I’d go ahead and show what a rebel I am. Not. Anyway, here it is, with standard disclaimers about insanity, sleep deprivation, etc.:

My daughter is here, asleep under her fleece blanket. Three years old and still able to sleep anywhere, she’s perfectly comfortable with taking up most of my spot on the couch. She came in here while I was writing, and curled up against my back.

She has her arm around a Curious George book; at one point she woke up and demanded that I read it to her. Her eyes were still drooping, and I promised to read it when it was “wake-up time”, stroking her hair until she fell back asleep.

She looks so delicate, so perfect. People say she reminds them of a porcelain doll, rosebud mouth and all. Her face is calm and smooth, too young for worries. One hand is curled, but relaxed, near her cheek. Occasionally her fingers twitch or her eyes seem to dart under their lids; is she dreaming?

I’m done working, but I decide not to move her, pulling the blanket up to her shoulder, and sneaking in a quick kiss of her hair before going back to bed.

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Yes, I know those aren’t real paragraphs! :)

Scribblings

2006-11-07T00:42:00.000-05:00

Posted November 7th, 2006 by JennyWren

Okay, this is a test. This is only a test. This is a test to see if writing for writing’s sake will produce anything. I will not be saving this, I can tell myself, so we will see if it makes it any easier. I do not need to worry about grammar ( can’t help it with the spelling, though!), so I should be free to just type whatever comes. It’s just words. Kind of like self-hypnosis, this, only I can’t type as fast as I am thinking the words, and so quite a bit is “lost in the translation”. Again, this is only a test. Just an exercise, getting the mind turning in those old, dust-filled ruts that used to lead to a story. Wow. See? Things are looking better already. Nope. Don’t look back! I only have a few minutes until lunch is ready, use any chance I have to practice putting the words down. maybe I will use something like the line about the ruts in an intro to my blog on the new site.

Okay, enough prattle, we need some fiction, here. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it’s too soon, I’m not distracted enough, still too aware. But I can feel it loosening, so that’s good…breaking free from its moorings, yeah, that’s it, let the cliches pour out. Reminds me of the moor, and the heather, ah, will I ever write anything with those words in it? Doubt it. But maybe.
Right now, I think I am working on a piece about a rocking chair. Well, okay, it’s not really about a rocking chair. It’s more about a woman, her life, her loves. Probably on a farm. Probably older and alone now. Probably depressing? Or maybe not.

The three year old leaned up against the couch, carefully pressing the crayon’s waxy tip onto the paper, drawing, she said, a smiley face. She added a few dots and loops for emphasis. Okay, time for lunch!