Rise Up

I never tire of Rilke's timeless perspectives. This quote has been rolling through my mind all week and looking for a way out. Now I must rise up, go forth and deal with weekend chores. I could use a bit of Rilke thinking to get them done. As our snow, ice and chilly temps subside, I send you all good wishes for the same! 

Drat!

There it was, her queue,
the sound of the curtains parting.
Then, just as she stepped out onto the stage, 

she felt her protective camouflage 

begin to fade. Drat.

"Where', she wondered out loud, 

'did I hide my bag of tricks."

Luckily the play revolved around

a girl wizard, and the audience

was expecting the unexpected.

Summer Dreaming

The chill in my bones that comes more easily as the years pass, has me doing a bit of summer dreaming. A perfect summer day. Not too hot, just bone warming. Warm enough to bring out the larkspur!

Sometimes Plans Fail

It has been a cold and rainy time of late.

Glad the camera took it all in stride.

The first photo was taken over looking a field down the street where fog often sleeps the day away. As you can see, yesterday frost paid a visit as well. The second photo, taken earlier in the week while stopped in commuter traffic, caught the falling rain on the side window. Since I was actually trying for the leafless branches against the patch of blue sky, those circles of rain were a surprise. Sometimes the best plans are those that fail.

Yeah Weekend!!!

Oh My

Sometimes, what falls below the squiggly line, 

simply takes the cake. 

Or was it cobbler. 

Yep, cobbler. 

Oh my...

Heaven


Having a crazy couple of weeks schedule wise.
Hope to do some catching up here
and elsewhere this weekend.


Until then, ginger pear sorbet anyone?

'Six Ribbons' for Your Valentine

At Valentine time, I'm reminded of the old love songs and those that were written in contemporary times with an ancient feel. One of my favorites is below. 

'Six Ribbons' 

by Jon English

If I were a minstrel

I'd sing you six love songs to tell the whole world of the love that we share

If I were a merchant

I'd bring you six diamonds with six blood red roses for my love to wear

But I am a simple man, a poor common farmer

So take my six ribbons to tie back your hair

Yellow and brown, blue as the sky, red as my blood, green as your eyes

If I were a nobleman

I'd bring you six palaces with six hundred servants for comforting care

But I am a simple man, a poor common farmer 

So take my six ribbons to tie back your hair

If I were a minstrel

I'd sing you six love songs to tell the whole world of the love that we share

So be not afraid my love

You're never alone love,
while you wear my ribbons tying your hair.


Happy Valentine's Day to each of you!

Amid the Realities

Sending you wishes for a wonderful week.

Amid the realities and must dos 

may there be time

for fresh air, observation, beauty

and some truly uplifting moments!

Flight

When we contemplate the whole globe as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands, flying through space with all other stars all singing and shining together as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty.

John Muir, 'Travels in Alaska', 1915

Within all of us is a varying amount of space lint and star dust, the residue from our creation. Most are too busy to notice it, and it is stronger in some than in others. It is strongest in those of us who fly and is responsible for an unconscious, subtle desire to slip into some wings and try for the elusive boundaries of our origin.

K O Eckland, 'Footprints on Clouds'

While Driving

While driving through the Palouse countryside in April of 2010, this chorus line of silos took me on an unexpected, secondary journey. As soon as I spotted them I was jealous. After spending thirty-five plus years in a home under 1000 sq feet, all I could think was, man, look at all that great storage space! Sick, but true. Having no fields, thus no grain to worry about; some mental renovating began as I drove along.


With my own silo I could line the walls with shelving and mount a library like ladder on a rail. It would circle round the room allowing me to grab what I needed from my well marked, well STORED, boxes. Of course my silo would be equipped with great lighting, insulated walls, no moisture and a small utility elevator for raising and lowering the boxes.


Being utilitarian by nature, my silo would have wonderful curved metal doors. They would slide wide open, allowing my little bobcat tractor to back in and haul out larger items when needed. The bobcat would live on the ground floor of my well aged red barn. You know, the one with the giant loft space, all set-up with work tables so my friends could come over and work on projects of small or huge proportions. Heck, we would have enough room to make hot air balloons or boat sails if we chose. And then...


Well, I suspect you have the idea. My drive, which was already filled with endless gasps in reaction to the amazing Palouse landscape, also provided a chance for imagining. No grand inventions or life saving ideas were developed. A few of my heros and sheros; Leonardo Da Vinci, Johannes Gutenberg, George Washington Carver, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Edison, Madame Curie, Jonas Salk, Temple Grandin, Michael Braungart & William McDonough, Racheal Carson and the like, got there first. (As if)

But that drive was a wonderful opportunity for a bit of creative relaxation. By the time I returned home, our cozy place seemed just fine in it's proportions. Oh, and that storage fantasy? It came true, in the form of a small metal space a few miles away, made just for that purpose. So far, it is organized and requires no elevator. Still dreaming of that communal workspace, but that is small potatoes compared to a less cramped living space. It has entered my mind that development of an electric version of a small tractor might be timely. Hmmm.


Seems it took getting out to see in. My, my, my, silos.
(Apologies. Blogger is having some creative time of its own with paragraph spacing today.)