used space ships available

A M Quar is my current favorite musician in second life, mostly because he's had 2 performances this week at times that worked for me!

my other faves play at inconvenient times mostly.

yesterday AM was playing at The Enchanted Forest of Dyfed on Cheonma.

so glad i got to see it -- looks like the good old second life before we got so sophisticated!

snow falls, sun shines, all is beauty

the low in florida was 35 F, which is 1.6 C.

my family moved to south florida when i was 10 years old.

that december, it was so cold there, my sister got pneumonia

my mother drove us around in the sun-heated car to keep us warm.

now houses there are better heated for the most part, but still, 

all glass and tile and cool surfaces, no cellar.

my neighbors are already in florida for the winter, and friends will be packing up to go soon.

last week, i was feeling a little jealous, until the sun came out,

and i realized what they will miss!

still some open water

but the falls look funny!

snowshoes

gators would have been smart in this powdery snow,
but i never got to try these snowshoes that i bought last spring and i couldn't be bothered.
my hope was that i could fasten myself into them without removing my gloves...my oldest rawhide ones had actual buckles, and my newer light ones still needed some fiddling to put on.

and i did! no more frozen hands before i even get started!
these are really for trails, not deep snow, but i just wanted to see if i could get to the library
through my neighbor's back yard, then behind the abandoned stone house,
then skirting around the back yard of my nasty neighbor...and i'd be there! with very wet pants!
and then i would have a trail to the library.
across the neighbor's snow i went (they are in florida missing all this fun!), but had to stop at their stone wall.
i couldn't see where exactly the wall was, plus some severe looking blackberry canes were just peeking out of the snow...
next time maybe i'll take ski poles and attempt the wall and the berries, or find a way around.

it's going extinct because....

who would read this article through to the end? only someone avoiding washing the kitchen floor. (me).
obviously the scientists involved did not read the last paragraph of this article, or they may have re-thought their ideas on why this bird is so rare, or maybe why it may make a comeback!

read the entire article, or just the first and last paragraph i've pasted below. 
Rare Albatross Expands Its Breeding Grounds
Two pairs of the short-tailed albatross, thought to remain only on two Japanese islands, have been found nesting on Kure Atoll and on Midway Atoll, American wildlife refuges in the Hawaiian Islands.
...and the last paragraph...
The birds that were recently found include one male-female pair, with a fertilized egg, and one female-female pair with two eggs. It is still unclear whether the eggs of the same-sex pair are fertilized.

amid the snows of winter

the first guests arrived around 2:15. John's turkey was beautiful browned to perfection! and the wild rice dressing, no meat products, no dairy products, no bread, no nuts, in respect for our guests' various beliefs and physiology, to have something everyone could eat, was delicious.
each guest brought something, too.
the first guests brought - mead made from honey from their bees, and grape pie made from juice from their grapes - tastes of summer past in the midst of freezing temperatures and snow! we started right in on the mead!
then everyone was there, with all kinds of nourishing food and delicious treats and bottles of wine, and we ate and talked for the next...really!...7 hours!
i can only assume that meant we were all having a good time. not even once was i tempted to say my father's famous line "Lets go to bed so these people can go home."
why these 3 couples we invited, who didn't know each other, hit it off so well, i'm not sure.
among the 8 of us were 5 atheists (3 of them buddhists), 2 jews, and 1 undeclared, 2 poets, 1 artist, a pharmacist, a shoe-store owner, a writer, a carpenter, a muse (ie do-nothing layabout - me), 3 leos, 2 aquarians, a cancer, a sagittarius, a gemini.
must be a recipe for success!
mix all together with unlimited quantities of turkey, veggies, desserts, wine and black tea. set in front of a woodburning heat stove with glass front, add a few candles and lowering dark outside with sprinkles of snow...

ski raglan!

(click picture to feel the cold air)
 
it's a long way up on the clanky ski lift! but the trip down goes very fast!!

the houses below look tiny!  
oh, because they are houses for tinies heehee.

take my money please

autumn in vermont is highly praised, 

but by late november it has me in tears.

lack of light may not really be the cause 

of seasonal affective disorder.

it's not just me 

perceiving the world through november-colored glasses

it is me perceiving the front page of the new york times 

huge photo of people trampling each other to death on a bridge, 

and piles of mail asking for help 

for the sick and dying and going-extinct humans and animals, 

the starving, opressed, tortured and enslaved men and mostly women, 

the homeless, the tsunamied, the cheated and lied to, the addicted. 

i want to give them all my money 

everything i own

all of it take it all if it will help. 

but i don't. 

i talk myself out of it 

and send money to the local food shelf, 

the local homeless shelter, 

the local environment and avian-recovery center,

the local library and of course 

the volunteer firemen. 

generosity, yes, sort of, but also in hopes 

that they will be there 

when i find an injured bird, 

or am hungry, homeless, wifiless and bookless 

and on fire.

The Wrong Alice

so did anyone like T Burton's Alice in Wonderland? 

i just saw it - wonderful characters and animations and scenery - but very sad about the story. 

i am an avid fan of the original tale and don't believe it can be improved upon, especially by stirring together narnia and avatar!

well i've always had mixed feelings about Burton's movies, there's something queasy-making to them similar to barton fink and faulty towers.

an underlying sense of eeeeeeeuuuuuuuuwwwwwwwww

ok i made this up

 christmas was coming soon. 

a woman came to the buddha and asked him to bless her plumbing so it didn't break down when she had house guests, especially in-laws.  

he told her to bring him a toilet brush from a family who had never had this happen. 

she emailed all her friends and finally even put a notice in the newspaper.
but no such family could be found!


so when it happens,
since you are already miserable,
you might as well breathe in the misery of everyone else in the world it is happening to!  

then breathe out a sense of humor and a jolly plumber to all of them!

Wootmas in Raglan!

it's wootmas in raglan again!
time to sing wootmas carols,
like waff-EL, waff-EL,
and we wish you a merry wootmas.
here's mudpie and a friend caroling

mud decided she'd better get a snowsuit - it was COLD!


then after a disorganized rehearsal we went caroling some biggie sims.

(Click to enlarge picture)

we sang wootmas carols (being critters, we sing about food) like ~*Waff-EL, Waff-EL,Waff-EL, Waff-EL...Born is the Breakfast Treat that is WAFF-EL!~*~

(definitely click this one to enlarge!)

and ~*~Here we come a waffling please feed us breakfast food, here we come a hungering so help our starving mood~*~
~*~Knives and forks come to me and a warm butter patty, and please serve us some syrup and chopped up pecans too~*~

Killing Mr Watson

after the war - the civil war - indians, settlers, fortune-hunters, mostly folks no longer welcome elsewhere, lived around the thousand islands of southwest florida.  over time they killed off the herons for the plume trade (yes all -- in hideous slaughter) most of the gators, and sometimes each other.  the difficulty of making a living, and finally, the hurricane of 1910, pretty much cleared everyone out.

last spring i went on a swamp walk in southwest florida - (read all about it here) - and then south past everglades city to visit the old trading post, store, post office built on an ancient indian mound (pile of shells) - the orginal building with lots of stuff still in it. fascinating to go through and read the history and imagine it all.

this book - Killing Mr Watson - takes place right where i stood on chokoloskee bay, and i can picture it all! the book is confusing with so many people and places, but as each person tells their story, the insights into life in those days is wonderful! mr watson is a legend in those parts, and this is the story pieced together from written accounts and interviews, and brought to life by peter mattheissen's imagination.

my sister has kayaked and camped this area of the everglades, and she reports first-hand that "There are remains on Watson's Place. There are cisterns, one with a huge alligator in it (alive), and a smaller cistern where you can't see thru the water. Back in the woods there are foundation remains and a big copper kettle. Unfortunately it is too accessible to motor boats so things are being carted off and the small camping spot is being trashed. You can follow the saga of his life as you kayak the Everglades channels."

The Big Apple Circus

when i was childless in springfield, my sister came to visit and we went early one morning to see the elephants and people set up a circus.  my sister is so much fun - she gets right into it. once she went to see the tall ships setting up and got offered a job aboard!  and at dawn at the fairgrounds, she got offered a job traveling with and setting up the circus! (she turned down both offers)

that circus was the last "old style" one i ever went to; it was a real turn-off.

but  years later in hanover, along came The Big Apple Circus!  using the excuse of my child, i went, and it was all new and shiny, no mistreated wild animals, no scarred and wrinkled performers, one ring, a 'european style' circus as i later learned.  up close and personal!

want to know what it's like to be in the circus? (i once seriously considered going to clown school in florida). PBS just did a series on the inside story of the people and history of The Big Apple Circus. six episodes. i'm loving it. highly recommended -- better than a soap opera or mystery series!

i don't get TV reception, but i hook my laptop up to my big flatscreen and watch it online. hooray for PBS!  you can watch it too here http://www.pbs.org/opb/circus/video/

see Paul Binder and Grandma and the circus "family" in the subculture of the circus world!  do clowns cry? what becomes of an aerealist who falls 80 feet? do 8th generation circus people get along with noobs? suppose an act cancels the night before opening? and more!

only a cold

4:18 a.m.
the cough medicine's worn off.
the kitten pushes my cellphone
and coughdrops to the floor
then crawls between the quilts
down to where i fear he will smother.
do you notice when you smother?
you still breathe, just nothing with oxygen.
gently, i remove him,
trying to give no encouragement of play.
i wriggle under the pile of quilts
meant to warm me out of my coughing,
pull the flannel sheet over my cold ear
worry that i'll fall asleep
and choke to death on this cough drop.
a square of light races around the room
and is gone.
who is driving this road at 4:18?
someone who comes or goes to work
maybe at a hospital.
they arrive out of the dark
to hot coffee and people maybe donuts.

i smile to myself.
or maybe a breakfast cook
at the diner. or maybe a baker.
my breathing relaxes and deepens
at the thought of fresh baked bread.
oh it could be someone coming home
from making snow all night
for the ski trails on okemo or ascutney.
or a woman in labor! rushing through
the dark to the hospital!
i remember the strangeness of it all.
the kitten is back, curling by my knees.
i think of all the good cats we've had
sometimes three at once like warm sandbags
in the bed at night.
he will be a good one.
i can tell.

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

tiny snowflakes appear one at a time

two handfuls of snow
fell since last sunday
one flake at a time
lightly sifted
by a sleepy sifter
a dust of snowflakes
that cover nothing
floating and twinkling

hank

a few months ago john started having dreams about an orange striped cat named hank.

he went around to some shelters looking, but no orange tabby.

then in october he found one, brought him home, named him hank, and he is one of the funniest cutest and luckiest shelter kittens in history i'm sure!

his favorite toys are 

a coiled up strip of paper

a rolled card tied to a long string

a ball of newspaper

a sock stuffed with 2 balls of newspaper

a paper bag with a few holes cut in it

everything else

he does scientific experiments with these, placing them in different locations and testing out various attack methods. stairs, doors, shoes, are great spots. 

flipping water and food out of his bowls is fascinating too, as is removing teabags from cups.

does he look slightly familiar?

web comics

the cartoon xkcd was suffering from illness in the family for which i was very sad, however, guest cartoonists rose to the occasion, so i'm discovered some new internet cartoons!

saturday morning breakfast cereal, overcompensating, buttercup festival, and questionable content so far! not sure i like them all but it's fun to find them.

Somewhere Towards the End

Somewhere Towards the End is a memoir by Diana Athill. i liked it a lot!

okay i never heard of her either, but it was on the New Book shelf at the library, somewhere towards the beginning, because her name starts with A. 

i didn't know it won the 2009 National Book Critics Circle Award in Autobiography and was a New York Times bestseller.

apparently she was one of the great book editors of the twentieth century (sez the cover).

for some reason, i immediately like some books from the first page and dislike others.  it has less to do with the subject matter than with the writing style. 

this was one of those books that i opened to the first page, standing in the library, and decided to take a chance on it.  that doesn't happen with many, even tho you can take a good many chances on library books that you would never take at a book store.  i walked out with 3 or 4 to try out.  read this one right away- to the end!

i've read 1/4 of the s. hawking so far, and probably won't touch the others.

more and more, like my father, i start books and never finishing them.  i remember once he explained that after he read a bit of a book, he knew what it was about and could figure out what was probably going to be said or happen, so he lost interest.

Diana Athill's book kept me guessing. she is around 89 or 90 when she wrote it, and it is not just retelling incidents from her younger days, but also writing about what she does and thinks about now that she is nearing the end. 

as i read it i kept thinking of a friend of mine, who has a similar style, or voice, or something, to her tales of younger days and musings of current days. they both like to analyze life and search out what it's all about.  i'd never tell my friend of this similarity, for she would no doubt disagree quite strongly. heehee that's part of the similarity. but it makes me think she should write for publication, not just for fun, friends, and the internet.

elephant sanctuary much

this morning over oatmeal i read Trunklines from the elephant sanctuary -- loved it as usual -- and flitting in the back of my mind was the thought of how buddhist-sounding the expressions and presentations of the writer are. 

for some reason i assume he/she is not buddhist, and i idly mused on how much buddhism is the same as any open, compassionate way of thinking and living.

once that thought came, tho, i became aware of how scrupulously religion-free the writing about the elephants is. this is unusual in this day and age, when frequently there is an annoying religious tint or hint in any tale of doing of good.

i came to no conclusions except that these were wonderfully good people.

then on the last page, was a sad, loving notice of the death of one of the elephants.

the last word was "namaste."

man who shot etc

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance -- not a movie i ever wanted to see, but i got talked into it recently.  halfway through, i didn't want to watch any more, but i stuck with it to the end!

the next day i realized why it's a guy movie. 

(okay so this is gross generalization and stereotyping.  just keep in mind what my dear daddy always told me, "all generalizations are false." (yes including that one!))

inside a guy's mind:

inside a guy's mind is a mean, scary out-of-control guy prone to murderous rages.

inside a guy's mind is a guy who lives by the heart.  he loves deeply, cares hugely about all his friends and animals, he takes care of everyone and is always alert to protect everyone he loves from danger, even at the expense of his own happiness.

inside a guy's mind is a guy who lives by higher principle, who will fight for what he believes in and even lose his own life over it.

so there you go.

roles for women in this movie - uh - right.  plot device anyone?

imagine the fun i could have analyzing it if Annie Oakley showed up and shot Liberty V.

the history part is interesting -- women obviously couldn't vote, pommey couldn't come in the saloon, the railroad ruined the open ranges for the cattlemen -- tho they seem to be making out ok these days due to the gummint giving them huge wads of our money.

"Oklahoma" was way more fun even if the farmers and the cowboys couldn't be friends.

monster dream

one night i dreamt that a monster -- a blobby yucky sort of monster -- was eating all my winter clothes. 

it didn't want to especially, and i didn't want it to, but it had to be done somehow and we commiserated over it. 

"i suppose you will have to eat all my summer clothes too" i sez.

it sez resignedly with a sigh, "oh, you have summer clothes?" 

"yes, they are stored in the attic."

and so it had to eat them too.

plus all the stuff stored there, and the mystery boxes of who knows what inherited from great aunties or bought or received as wedding gifts, and even the big cut glass stuff my mom had for fancy dinners that nobody wanted after she died and who knows  where it is now either my brother took it for his girls or it went to the salvation army and some canny dealer bought it up. 

yes, the monster had to eat all that too!

poor thing!

pemphigus

i had lunch with a friend who has been dealing with something called pemphigus, a horrible auto-immune disease, for about 8 years. the treatment involves induced coma and bone marrow replacement and while almost killing him thereby saved his life. however he has been recovering from the medications for almost a year now. he looks to be in better shape than he has for a long time.

he is still in pretty much constant pain but as much fun to talk with as ever, with no great diminishing of his sense of humor, gentleness, his interest in people and curiosity about all things.  it amazes me that people carry on with their lives under such dire physical situations. i often think of a character in The Poisenwood Bible who has no legs, but lives, gardens, fetches water, raises her children, by walking on her hands (water carried in jug on head), and seemingly enjoys life. this sounds far-fetched unless you know some people who have chronic pain or disabilities and continue to have a lively involvement in all that is.

remembering supe!

i'm standing about where the superman suit is buried. i miss paul.  everyone misses paul! if i start to write about paul i'll go on and on. the superman suit was his. after he moved out of the village, he still liked to come over on halloween to give out treats to the hundred or more kids who came knocking. most of them he knew from little league, had given them their knickname. and as always, he wore his superman suit for treat-giving. 

suddenly one year he was getting old, grey, bald, more the shape of old elvis than of supe. we realized that an old bald guy in a superman suit, complete with that red speedo thing and cape, a couple of holes in the blue tights, a gut like santa...was maybe actually scaring the kids!  and maybe scaring the parents who stood out in the dark street as guardians! HAPPY HALLOWEEN BUWAHAHAHAHA 

we talked him into retiring the suit. but we had to give it the proper attention of a sacred relic. so one cold windy day, before the ground froze, a few of us went with paul and a shovel and the suit up to the sacred village ballfield, and gave it a proper burial in an unmarked spot in the woods outside the back gate.

standing there today i imagine that someday kids will dig a hole here for an arbor day project and find remains of it. if any of them know who superman is/was, and have any imagination, wow!!
we should have thrown a few bones in just to make it interesting.

surprise!

low clouds hide the sky
no leonids for us this year
but in the morning - snow!
                                         
  ~mudpie

life in a calendar picture

gray granite cliffs line

gray roads gray sky gray clouds make
red yellow flame trees glow!

the falls in autumn

last week john took my camera and walked around the block,
then added music by 5-Track

robots vent their feelings - not!

Well they fooled me - i thought it had to do with robots!

Word of the Day for Saturday, October 9, 2010

roborant \ROB-uh-ruhnt\, adjective:

1. Strengthening; restoring vigor.

noun:
1. A strengthening medicine; a tonic; a restorative.

    A major field study of the effect of pollen extracts on the common cold and its roborant . . . effects in 775 Swedish military recruits did not give unequivocal results in relation to the prophylactic effect of the preparation used against the common cold.
    -- James P. Carter, Racketeering in Medicine

    That day, I felt the need of a roborant after my ghost-ridden night, and I swigged down two doses.
    -- William Least Heat Moon, River Horse

Roborant derives from the present participle of Latin roborare, "to strengthen," from robur, roboris, "strength."

in which i decide to take up cooking

my plan -
choose a cuisine - thai, or mexican, or indian
get a book or course
learn the vocabulary, utensils, ingredients
work through it and become proficient
that was my plan
alas
systems, discipline, linear progressions -
a wrestling match i seldom win

here's how it goes so far:
PEARS
our pear tree did its thing
many small misshapen pears.
the internet to the rescue!
aha - i DO have vinegar, raisens, sugar, garlic, chiles, spices
voila - i taste no trace of the pears in it
but the resulting chutney is a WOW!

EGGS
our fridge is full of certified organic
eggs from a neighbor's free range chickens
(read that as deeelicious eggs!).
search of index of cookbooks
aha - i DO have large cast iron skillet
+ potatoes onions oven = yumm frittata
serve with juicy orange tomatoes from another neighbor
and kale from our kale patch!

CABBAGE
a neighbor brings us cabbages
i search the pantry - 7 kinds of dried beans!
i search the internet - SOUP
amazing soup of beans cabbage and best of all -
anything else! clean out the fridge.
in goes the left over garlic-mashed-potatoes kale
peas carrots zucchini, onion tomatoes i forget what else.
we eat it for days - it gets better and better!
some goes to a sick friend - she gets better!

MORE CABBAGE
in Sun Magazine (highly recommended) -an interview
with Sandor Katz who is wild about fermentation!
a fermentation madman! his enthusiasm is contagious!
i shred up the rest of the cabbage, mash it and cover in brine.
it sits in the pantry in a jar
like some science experiment,
weighted down with a waterfilled baggie.
i'm watch it closely to see what will happen!

MAYBE NEXT WEEK
use up all those apples - yum
apple crisp - my favorite.

thrilling and ribbet

 here it is already, SHOCKTOBER in raglan - dozens of tinies gather for the Thriller dance and this year i lucked out and got in on it . mudpie is the hamster in the purple mage costume.

  the mage costume comes with a magic wand which can temporarily TURN OTHERS INTO FROGS! it was fun and nobody got mad!  tinies are the best!  here is makepeace about to be amphibizaamed!

our animal friends

 fussby continues to misbehave, chasing the chickens, pushing his ball behind the neighbor's banlines, escaping under or around the fence and getting stuck in a ditch somewhere.  mudpie and lucy try to keep tabs on him and tubeguy checks on him too but he's a free-spirit!  every time he gets borked and i have to delete him and rezz a new copy, i feel strangely sad and ponder life death the universe and everything else.

mudpie and lucy confer

in RL, as it is called, we are almost a year without a cat. i have fussby which is strange but okay, however john is alarmingly making pets of the backyard wildlife. he frequently talks to the neighbor's dogs - not so unusual - and i have often heard him talking to our resident chipmunk (s?). the possum we plan to capture and re-locate is also becoming his friend, and last night he had a conversation with a large skunk passing through our back porch on its rounds. time to get another cat!? or maybe even .... a dog?

a nanosecond is to a second as 1 second is to roughly 30 years

after raking the leaves together

i sprawl flat pulling them over me

the ground is cool under me

the leaves are warm over me

using awareness of quantum physics

i dissolve myself into the ground

my hair and skin crisp up into leaves

all colors red orange yellow purple magenta

i am the earth and the leaves

and the wind that blows them into the sky

only a damp spot remains

and soon it's gone

nothing is left of me
i get up and walk to the house
and make coffee

i live in a calendar

i have hundreds of pictures of autumn. but walking around the village today is so beautiful it hurts. 

can't eat it or fuck it or snort it or wear it, can't poem it or paint it...

i could lie down and die in it but instead i get out my camera once again!

(click to enlarge and walk right in!)

My heart is warm with friends I make,
   And better friends I'll not be knowing,
Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,
   No matter where it's going.  

                                        ~Edna St. Vincent Millay

kathe's mother wanted to go on a train ride. 

they didn't have to ask me twice!

the stationmaster had a nifty contraption (oh goody!)

to get her into the train car with her walker.

these trains go every day, and even so

people here wave to the train.

occasional kayakers on the river - they look up and wave!

later some canoeists - they wave too.

the practicing crew team ignores us.

man in motorboat with live dog as figurehead - man waves to train.

dog barks!

people wave from an island in the river

and from an estate across the river.

(were they really playing croquet?)

some cute kids on bikes waiting at the crossing.

they wave to us.

a large man in a tomato field waves

then turns back to his task

bending over broadly - we giggle.

a muscled young man with two ginormous horses

working a vast field of sunflowers -

he stops and smiles and waves.

i try to snap a photo of him the horses but 

we zoom on by and i get a large bush instead.

when they give you your ticket

they should include

a white hanky to wave out the open windows.

.

autumn is here - let the fright begin!

                                         exploring a great hallowe'en sim with 2 friends - it had everything! most frightening of all -- the clowns in the haunted nursery! be sure to go to Bentham Manor in Sevenfold!

i can haz fluffyness

i have an adorable new avatar which is a fluffy persian kitten.  

a manual came with it, so it may have some animations or tricks i don't know about.

here's what the manual says.


このたびは、NEKOの製品をお買い上げいただき、ありがとうございます。

猫アバターの使い方について、ご説明させていただきます。

品物の内容は、大まかに分けると、専用ボディシェイプ、専用スキン、ボディクラッシャー（１，５２・Ｌ）、
猫の体の部品、で構成されています。


すべての部品を、アバターに装着しますと、猫アバターになれます。


＜装着する方法＞

インベントリ（持ち物）の中から、製品のフォルダーをご自分のアバターに、
ドラッグ、ドロップしてください。

または、フォルダーを指定して、ダイアログの「服装を置換」、
を選択することで、一度にすべての部品を装着することが出来ます。

注）ＡＯ等を装着したままですと、ボディクラッシャーがきちんと機能せず、体型が崩れる場合があります。

注）サーバー、通信の状態により装着に時間がかかる場合があります。
その場合、アバターが何も装着しない時間が長くなる場合がありますので、更衣室等で
装着されることを、お勧めいたします。

注）お座りのポーズが入っていますが、椅子などに座った場合、椅子のポーズの優先度が高い場合は、
きちんとお座りできない場合があります。


わからないことがありましたら、[ neko Devin ]まで。

では、猫ライフをお楽しみください（＾＾

angels

"mommy, jesus told me not to use the downstairs bathroom. there's something bad in there" said 5 year old -- let's call her 'joy.'
they are visiting my house for xmas: joy, her mom, her mom's sister with her hubby my brother and their baby.
joy's mother reassured her that she herself sat in the downstairs bathroom each morning and read her bible, and it was a perfectly ok place.
but either to allay the child's concerns, or their own, i don't know which, it was decided to hold an exorcismic sort of gathering that evening.
when the time came, my hubby went off to bed grumpily and the rest of us sat down in a circle in the living room.
then reassuring prayers and praise were offered up to a loving god, and angels were set over the house to guard it. it seems to me the angels were very tall - 60 feet? or am i confusing it with a movie i saw.
all of this happened years ago, but many times i have thought of those angels i don't believe in and of how comforting it is to have them there, and how happy and trouble free we have been in this place.
the little girl, grown now into a woman, was killed last week in a car crash somewhere down south.
i am so sad.

who let you in my dream? was i in yours?

i dreamed

there were small rooms many boxes

piled everywhere lots of people

much activity

new michael

sang without stop

all bob dylan songs

he knew all the lyrics perfectly

i said to him

we share a gene

for remembering lyrics

he smiled enigmatically

a delivery man came in

tall wild haired it was duane carleton

brought many more boxes

he and new michael

hugged and thumped

in masculine affection

and it was then i realized

they belonged to the same cult

each member had to learn

some important body of knowlege

to save it from

the destruction to come

new micheal's job

was to learn all bob dylan songs

in my dream

i knew the name

of their organization

LOFTUS

now awake

i invoke google

it gives me a site that sells rubber chickens

which i have been needing

since our kitchen remodeling

when my old one got thrown out

i go to the woods

and stayed alone in susan clarke's wonderful cabin to meditate.

it was so amazing.

here are some pictures i took.

the music is used by permission of kourosh dini http://lifeinmusic.org/sky-lily/

best viewed full screen

on the doggy internet everyone is a dog

i'm digging a hole in the compost pile and our next-door dog is lying relaxed nearby on her property.  at first i feel bad for her because it is overcast damp and chill.
then i realize she has a coat meant for somewhere like the arctic! she probably feels we finally have some nice weather.
but she is tied out alone poor thing.
she barks. i look up. she has not moved, just a couple of deep loud laid back "woof"s. my ever-alert mind informs me that just previous, without my noticing, a dog up the valley barked just like that. Stella was merely commenting or replying, perhaps to a chain of dogs up and down the valley. she is not alone!
she is hanging out. not texting exactly, more woofing i suppose, with her friends. reminds me a bit of Rat Thing, one of my favorite creations of Snow Crash.
at the same moment it dawns on me that the bluejays are doing something similar, but with them, it is always crisis time!

where folks sit

walk up main street turn on tyson road

walk down back street past mill street

until it meets up with main street again.

i was going to snap chairs,

but got interested in porches too!

what are you going to do?

today is my last day at this job!
people are asking me "what are you going to do?"
i never realized what a complicated question that is.
do for the rest of my life?
for the next 5 years?
the next year? next week?
tomorrow?
stay tuned!

what no granola? no birkenstocks?

NO VERMONTERS IN HEAVEN
by E. F. Johnstone ~ 1950

I dreamed that I went to the city of gold,
To Heaven resplendent and fair;
And, after I entered that beautiful fold,
By one in authority there I was told 
That not a Vermonter was there!

"Impossible," said I. "A host from my town
Have sought this delectable place,
And each must be here with a harp and a crown,
A conqueror's palm and clean linen gown
Received through merited grace."

The angel replied, "All Vermonters come here
When first they depart from the earth,
But after a day or a month or a year
They restless and lonesome and homesick appear
And sigh for the land of their birth.

"They tell of its many and beautiful hills
Where forest majestic appear;
Its rivers and lakes and its streams and its hills
Where nature the purest of water distills,
And they soon get dissatisfied here."

"They tell of ravines, wild, secluded and deep,
Of clover-decked landscapes serene,
of towering mountains, imposing and steep
Adown which the torrents exulting leap
Through forests perennially green."

"We give them the best that the Kingdom provides,
They have everything here that they want;
But not a Vermonter in Heaven abides,
A very short time period here he resides,
Then hikes his way back to Vermont!"

.

Wootstock 2010

tinies are known for having tons of good clean fun in second life, so i admit it was a bit shocking to see so many of them stoned to the furry ears on rolled up waffle reefers, laying about on the ground muttering 'peace out man' or dancing hypnotically to the live music, which was FABULOUS. 

it was their annual two-day WOOTSTOCK freakout devoted to the motto 'make waffles not war' held on a farm somewhere in Raglan. we all had a great time dressing up and dancing and playing and half of us don't half remember it already!

 click pics to see BIG

a tale of suspense and mystery!

he was half way through his morning tea when the feeling of horror came over him.
last night unlike his usual sleepless nights, he fell asleep on the sofa after dinner and slept through until morning.
he felt rested!
yesterday his neighbor up the hill left for a week's vacation. she asked him to lock up the chickens in their coop each evening and let them out in the mornings.
but he'd fallen asleep.
the feeling of dread intensified as he headed up the morning hill, images of massacred chickens filled his mind.
he feared the worst and arrived at the pen
only to find...the worst.
some feathers.
no chickens.
none.
nada.
gone.
he looked through the fields and woods, called the neighbors, organized a disorganized search party.
eventually 3 chickens were found.
a 4th was found in a field, wounded, but refused to be captured.
attempts to lure it into a cage were getting underway when the farmer arrived to mow his field.
no! no! wait...we have to capture this injured chicken!
there were 8 chickens when she left for the week.
will there still be 4 when she returns?
something watches us and waits.
and they say we don't have much excitement around here!

why i not on F-book

suppose lex luthor or j edgar hoover tried setting up a form on the internet and requiring that everyone fill one out with name, picture, some personal information...would that have worked?

i'll bet you said NO WAY!

suppose someone or some corporation a bit more sly and results-oriented used the technology from Inception to infiltrate the dreams of some college student to influence him to create an internet site with information and pictures of everyone in his yearbook?

...in the expectation (evil genius' expectation, not college student's) that this would be irresistable and soon everyone in the world for the most part would want to be on it?

don't worry about me being disappeared, very few people read my blog, and anyway it's a bit like telling people you were abducted by aliens or saw big-foot.

yeah, right.

well you looked like you were asleep, you were even snoring!

seeking oblivion i arrive at sleep's door
knock knock knock knock!
the door does not open.
i knock louder, pounding.
"are you prepared to sleep?" asks a poster.
teeth brushed, face washed.
wearing soft clothing.
what more?

my body then.
beginning with toes i command relaxing.
feet
ankles
calves
knees
i continue on and on
finally unclenching
neck
jaw
scalp
now all is calm and soft.

gently i knock again.
the door moves a crack.
one eye to the opening i gaze in with envy.
cats dozing in fields of poppies,
bats swaying peacefully above
and in distant water dolphins
hang motionless just beneath the surface.

but no!
before i can melt into mist
and flow through the opening -
hands take hold of me!
my job! my bank account! what i said to my friend!
no no no....pulling me back from sleep's door!
let me go!
let me dissolve and think no more today.
i grab the handle holding on for all i am worth!

suddenly!
the hands let me go
and i rebound,
flung through the door into sleep
not even knowing i am there
until the sun wakes me to another day.

jobs i have had - what next?

(other than summer jobs)
occupational therapist in Boston
recreation director in New Hampshire
head start in New Hampshire
medical record transcription in Florida
department store clerk in Vermont
head start in Vermont
upward bound in Vermont
piano teacher Vermont
head librarian Vermont
office manager Vermont

.

contemplating ramadan

fasting all day - could i ?

eat nothing -

from breakfast to lunch?

maybe.

drink nothing -

from breakfast to lunch?

doubtful.

(here i take a sip of coffee)

eat nothing -

from lunch to dinner?

gasp! (reaching for a cookie)

drink nothing -

from lunch to dinner?

impossible!

and besides -

these northern August days are long!

in Alaska do they get to eat at all?

holed those reigns! spellchecker is here!

(i dint write this, someone passed it along to me - maybe you've seen it before)
 
Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea,
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight for it two say,
Weather eye and wring oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long,
And eye can put the error rite
Its rare lea ever wrong.
To rite with care is quite a feet
Of witch won should bee proud,
And wee mussed dew the best wee can,
Sew flaw's are knot aloud.
Eye have run this poem threw it
Your sure reel glad two no,
Its letter perfect awl the weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.
-Sauce unknown

Dilgo Khyentse 100 years - the return!

washing the saki and wine from my hair - i wonder if it attracts yellow-jackets? - i'm thinking of how much fun i have as a buddhist.

as a young lutheran i was allowed to take communion after 2 years of memorizing luther's small catechism.

i never imagined there was a religion that could transmit sacred empowerments to me by tossing flower petals in the air and reading to me (and 300 others) in tibetan for hours and hours, followed by a joyful celebration.

unlike 'holy communion' these revered holy men and women came right into the crowd, all of them in a line, each bestowing a different blessing/transmission, the touch of a transmission object to the head, or cinnamon candy in the hand, powder to make a mark on the forehead, and both wine and saki, just a bit poured into my outstretched hand, and then slurped and my hand rubbed across the top of my hair.

i wonder what the folks who have that "common cup" vs "individual cup" argument (you know who you are) would say to the "just use your hand" idea?

(click to enlarge photos)

here's a link for the curious
more information 

and know where your towel is

to endure cold rain
or the burdensome umbrella
which one do you choose?

the return

his first trip to the USA in this lifetime
an amazing event right here in Vermont, and i'll be there this weekend!
The Return

this explains everything -- really!

an earwig whose life
led it into my kitchen
and onto my counter
lay dead in some honey
left in a small glass
overnight on the counter
from soothing my throat
that was sore from my coughing
to dislodge the cheerio
drunk from my tea.
the cheerio was on
the spoonful of milk 
from my cereal i add 
to my tea every morning
but this time a cheerio
got in and choked me
and made my throat sore
and the honey that soothed it
has killed this small earwig
and there you have karma
in case you had wondered

.

washing machines

one of my friends has to get a new washing machine, so i've been surveying other friends to see what they have and how they like it. of all the choices, it seems my Second Life washer is the best!

it's attractive, easy to operate, never breaks, 
plus it does your clothes, your hair, you, even your shoes

it uses very little water, and is LOADS OF FUN WHIRLING YOU AROUND
until it spits you out along with some bubbles

all clean and refreshed.

the brand seems to be Surprising Laundry, and on top of all that, it was FREE!
 

no no no not the crickets!!!

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

heard the first one yesterday. you know what it means...summer is coming to an end. my heart always sinks when i hear the first cricket, just when i am getting warmed up finally!
i can't help but remember Charlotte's Web:

The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer's ending, a sad, monotonous song. "Summer is over and gone," they sang. "Over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying."
The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year--the days when summer is changing into fall--the crickets spread the rumor of sadness and change.

postcard from the vacationing blog

i am like a god! a carelessly destructive one, as most seem to be, whose purposes are unfathomable to the creatures whose lives i disturb.
six cords of firewood for the winter were delivered and dumped in our driveway a month ago.
most years i would be stacking it in the garage, whenever so moved, not rushing, enjoying the process, but not this year.
john has promised the job to the kid (the one who mows our lawn) and arranged to pay him by the job. is it my bit of scottish DNA playing up that keeps me therefore from moving so much as one piece? perhaps i could divide the number of pieces into the quoted price and subtract each one i move?
today i had to relocate a few pieces to weigh down the tarp over the lawn mower. (i've learned not to say tarpaulin, as i have gone into stores to ask for this and been told they never heard of such an item).
as i said, the wood has been there a month now. i picked up the first piece, at the edge of the pile, and there, curled under it, was a red eft, surely one of nature's most sweetly innocent and vulnerable looking creatures. i carefully replaced the wood feeling like i had done something bad.
as i went on choosing and removing pieces, i caused monstrous upheavals in critter land. entire nations of earwigs... mothers, fathers, babies... were sent screaming in panic in every direction!
ants of course live and store their eggs everywhere, and can hardly be avoided being disturbed with every step. it doesn't help to know that ants will die if lost from their family of sisters, and that earwig mothers actually watch over their young until they grow big enough to fend for themselves.
the slugs...well i'm not sure if they were male, female, both, child or adult, and i'm not even sure they noticed that the log was moved. i have read that slime mold is quite intelligent, but i don't know of any research involving slugs.

avatars?

for his children to play with, he carved 3,500 individual pieces from scrap wood and hand painted them in his spare time over 40 years. that's the Kirk Bros Circus by Edward Kirk. this includes the animals, the aerialists, the pop-corn vendors, wagons, tent poles, and the audience, and more, each individual...and the arms are attached, not clothes-pin style! the Shelburne Museum has this on display - it's huge!

 the museum also has the most amazing collection of over 500 old circus posters, too!

and if that's not enough, it has Roy Arnold's miniature carved circus parade, scaled 1' = 1 foot, and it is 525 feet in length. Shelburne Museum has a special building dedicated to it so that you walk through a curved narrow building unable to see ahead too far, as if the circus were coming along past you. there are 400 horses, each individually carved. and very ornate wagons for each performer or animal! one wagon, based on a real one, has 40 horses pulling it. the real one had reins that weighed 72 lbs!
 
i wish i could find an online in-color picture of a particularly ornate colorful poster with a great deal of captions using all the literary devices known to circus, (hyperbole, aliteration, testimonials) to entice the customer -- it's Minting the Marvel who rode his unicycle up and down a steep high spiral in the Adam Forepaugh and Sells Bros circus...the MOST HAZARDOUS JOURNEY EVER TAKEN BY MAN! hah...he wasn't even knitting!