Subscribers, Forgive Me

I'm reposting the link 'cause I want to. And it's my blog. And it well reflects the flightiness of my real life. Plus, if you were the sort to be bored and/or disgusted by repetition, chances are good that you would have stopped visiting this place moons ago.

For those of you who are seeing this for the first time, I wrote the following last night, before I realized that the purchase occurred five years ago. I knew of Monsato and their disturbing practices, but either hadn't heard or didn't remember that they are now the Boss of vegetable seeds, as well. I'm a late learner. If someone else learns the same from my link, great. Increased awareness of what is currently occurring at the root of our food sources can only be a good thing, and if enough people act as Fedco's customers have, then perhaps we can keep seeds from committing suicide.

Because I'm a procrastinator to my core, I just sat down to order seeds, which means I just now learned about Monsanto's buyout of Seminis seeds.

And then I had to post a link for those of you interested in seed saving and/or breaking ties with wicked-- I don't say that lightly-- corporations*. Some may think that this is a lot of fuss and bother over nothing, but seeds are life, which is worth some fuss and bother, don't you think?

I wanted to start saving seed in slow paces so I wouldn't feel overwhelmed, but right now, I feel overwhelmed.

*As I hope is obvious, I don't think all corporations are wicked, but Monsanto seems to fit the bill.

**Also redundant is a request for advice from anyone who's saved seeds before. Any suggestions about easy vegetables to start with? Not too many, though. I already feel like I'm treading water.



The Thing That Perches in the Soul

Two days ago, the surety of spring was a blush rising on a woman's cheek. Black birds, white bellies by the dozens, moved with pecks and hops along the yard. Worms stirred in dark masses just below.

But tonight spring is a hooded bird. The snow lies thick and falls thicker. After a day long and cluttered, I sit alone and quiet, the steady wind a nightsong outside the window. Ready to spill today onto the floor in a sorry, graveled heap. Ready to begin again in tomorrow's clear light.

Too Soon Departed

I've had these posts ready to publish for several days now. ("Publish." That's a ridiculous term given what actually occurs here...)

Anyway, this particular post is brought to you by sunspots and little girls in the living room.

A Study in Red: Pip and the Turtle-Lizard-Snake

Mystery Contained

What walks in the minds of man and beast?

I truly do want to know.

Don't Forget

...that the great Julia Child began her career in exactly this manner.

I bet her costume had more glitz to it, though.

Love Knows No Color. It Has No Scent.

Before Christmas, John's Aunt Charlotte mailed us five stuffed animals she'd found new at a yard sale, to be used as I saw fit. I tucked them away for Christmas morning, but not before letting the girls take a peek to determine which beast would best fit each beauty.

Millie=spotted fawn
Annika=green mallard duck
Susannah=cute raccoon
Luci=wee chipmunk

Piper, uniquivocably=SKUNK

She loved him from the moment she laid eyes on him, promptly named him Stinker (aided by her sisters), and has remained faithful ever since. Given that one of Piper's own nicknames is also Stinker, this match will certainly endure.

She feeds him the choicest morsels from her own plate,

laments, "'Tinker, 'Tinker not here!" if I lay her abed without her comrade.

and carries him around like a baby the whole day through.

This sight is what prompted me to pull out the camera to begin with. I walked into the living room to see her standing on the rocker, violently rocking Stinker to sleep.
Skunks are weird like that.


Susannah Wren's birthday morning breakfast consisted of a double batch of waffles (she let us eat a few), she spent her afternoon at a 90th birthday party for her great-great Aunt Mae, and when John worked a normal shift two nights later, we finally had a proper party.

...with a proper princess

who lives in a crooked little castle (painted lavender by a mad Grand Duke who was beheaded 100 years ago),

The Castle Architect was nearly beheaded. (It was Someone's first attempt at working with and making fondant. She was fired, so it may be her last.)

The back of the cake even survived that Someone dropping it! Maybe we should rehire her.

Dear Bird,

May the Writer of your Song always tune you toward Himself.
We love you.

Lead On

A week ago, spring came for a day-trip.

We followed the runes.

And felt the love.

Living: Overdocumented

A simple walk.

A rainbow on my back (so much better than an albatross).

A stranger's shirt mysteriously hanging from a branch. (Not sure I want this mystery unraveled...)

Piggyback rides.


Treasure found.

I Did Say a Single Day, Didn't I?

The next day, Winter awoke with a vengeance.

And the North Wind joined in the fun*.

*Of note is the buried rocking chair that Annika placed by the porch so that "people who need to sit down by the porch can sit." It's the thought that counts, folks.

Something to Crow About

It figures that on the one morning John does chores for me, our rooster decides to lay an egg.

A Guide For Heffalump Hunters

First, use one's keen powers of observation to note the muffled thumps and shrieks emitted by the hall closet door.

Second, take a picture (logically).

Third, patiently wait for the beast to emerge.

Fourth: take a picture (of course).


I Tucked This Away

Because when the someday of only my Heart and I arrives, I might want to remember these little girls.