Heal My Life

Duck, Duck Goose

Well, one duck anyway.  Suleiman, ever the great hunter, brought this little girl home from one of his Houdini fence escapes yesterday.  He was carrying her very gently and aside from some mushed feathers, it seems he did her no harm except for a good scare.  She doesn't have wing feathers yet, though, and we're afraid to put her back in the pond next door, which is where we think she lives, until she can fly out of his way.  So we've put her in one side of the chicken range with a wading pool, greens, food and drinking water. 

Ducks sure do make a mess though, and it looks like we'll be changing that pool water every day.  Sigh.  "Suleiman, you're going to be the death of me".

  

Tadpole Season

Well we lost another one - this time to a coyote; Big Red is no more.  I felt terrible when it happened, as Big Red was the brave one, now it's Blackie.  I know this is "the way it is" with farm animals, and it will probably happen again, but I can't help feeling so sad about them both.

And on that note, I also fell terribly sad that George Carlin is gone, much too soon.  We sorely need his constant questioning and his acerbic wit was refreshing.  I remember clearly when I heard him blurt out the "Seven Words You Can't Say on TV or the Radio".  It was 1972, the year after I was married and I can remember thinking that this certainly was a new world if you could say those things in public!     http://www.commondreams.org/archive/2008/06/23/9815/ I bought his albums (remember those) and watched his HBO specials and I'll miss him.

So we've been busy as usual, we've been cleaning and painting the new studio/manufacturing space for Heal My Hands and 8 Arms Creative and I'll post photos as soon as we get our office moved into it!  The colors are amazing too - wait till you see!  We've been doing just a bit of hiking too, and last week up on the Windsor Trail (10,800 ft) there was snow! 

Suleiman has been doing a bit of swimming in the pond, and I'll post a photo of it as soon as I get the wrought iron furniture painted up.  We bought and released three bullfrog tadpoles too.  Unfortunately I didn't realize that bullfrog tadpoles take two years to mature!  I was thinking I'd fall asleep to the music of bullfrogs... of well, maybe next year.

I've also made a couple of necklaces, one in braided Irish Linen with drop, pressed glass and silver beads, and another in silver beads with an aquamarine, a pressed glass leaf and a Hill Tribe silver charm.  And a very pretty freeform peyote stitch bracelet, which oddly, I can't find the photo of) I call Riverwalk.  It really is nice to actually make something beaded that turns out the way it's supposed to.  Thanks Marty! 

Long Weekend Activities

A long weekend, wow - I remember those!  When you work for yourself, you rarely get to take them "off".  Just one of the benefits of being self-employed.  But this weekend we took all for ourselves!  Which meant that Anthony got to make some furniture (photos to come), and clear some brush and work on the chicken coop and make steamed buns, which were out of this world yummy.  And I got to, well, it's easier if I show you:

This is Thorpe.  I knit it in the large size, don't ask me why, the earflaps hung to my shoulders.  I was bummed until Anthony suggested I felt it.  And Voila! It fits like a charm.

Then I worked on Carmen, a new bag in hot summer pinks and yellows.  I had done the layering of bits back in NY and transported her rolled up in a tube.  I cut and laid on the sheer top layers, pinned them in place and free motion quilted the sandwich together.  Tonight, I'll burn through the sheer top layers on the back between the quilting lines and reveal the bits underneath. 

I can't wait - I just love setting fire to things. It's the best part!

 

 

Then, I brushed Sulei, and I brushed him and brushed him and well, you get the idea.  I have to do something about that straw.

 

And I ate Anthony's yummy steamed buns, and we ate our first EGGS with toast made of Anthony's English Muffin Bread and mulberry jam from last years canning.  And it was all so delicious. We feed the chickens amazing organic feed and give them fresh ground veggies every day and the yolks were a gorgeous deep orange. 

And so our Sunday breakfast was made up of all things we made or raised or wild-gathered ourselves. And I have to admit that it was so satisfying to know that we provided the entire meal in one way or another.  Self-sufficiency is just so darn cool.   

The Cat in the ... YARN. A Survey

Note to self: DO NOT try and spin any of the fiber you have stashed away in anticipation of the day you get your spinning wheel, unless you can verify for certain that the person who made it *HAS NO FREAKIN CATS!

Well Dear Readers, I did it again.  I pulled out some gorgeous fiber in shades of deep greens with hints of mustard, a pale green sparkle and touches of red, and started spinning it on Sunday.  By Sunday night I was rocking and crying with a swollen face, completely unable to breathe through my painfully swollen nose and sinuses.  And I an NOT a good mouth breather.  By three AM, after much medication, I was finally able to breather through my nose.  The pain had subsided and I was able to go to sleep.  Anthony, on the other hand, went into my fiber room and removed, in it's entirety, MY SPINNING FIBER STASH!  When I woke up on Monday morning, it was sitting, triple plastic bagged in the corner of the office. 

As I was the walking wounded all day on Monday, which was difficult since Monday is our busiest day here at HMH, I didn't have an opportunity to mourn my lost stash.  Yesterday I was feeling the loss a bit more keenly, and by today - I'm just devastated.  So now that this has happened to me twice, and I have had to bypass yarn and fiber from cat owning spinners and dyers more than once,I have to ask:

What's the deal with fiber people and CATS?  There seems to be a disproportional number of fiber people who are cat owners as opposed to dog owners.  Perhaps it's just that cat owning fiber people take more cute photos of their fur babies than dog people.  Anthony thinks that fiber people are nesters, and cats are nesters, so nesting people are attracted to nesting animals.  I don't really buy this, as if that were the case, fiber people would also be attracted to rodents, and know some who are, but too few of them to qualify for this study.  Seriously, I can't shake the feeling that fiber people are cat people. End. Done. Period. 

So Indulge me.  Take this little survey, and then send all your fibery friends to take this survey, so I can satisfy my curiosity once and for all and dispel my notion that fiber people are indeed cat people!

Free Online Surveys

 

* Disclaimer:  Please know that I have nothing against cats particularly, and hold them in rather high regard.  They are less needy than dogs and can be left alone with a bowl of cat food, a bowl of water and a fresh litter pan for the weekend.  I even had a cat, Brucie, briefly as a child, clearly before we discovered my allergy.  I cried when we had to give him away.  It is only because of my allergy that I have begun to notice this peculiar link between fiber and cats and not because I dislike them.       

New Neighbors

HI ALL!!! 

Well, we made it to New Mexico and more or less in one piece except for a lovely sunflower serving plate and one ice cream dish both of which broke because of my poor packing skills.  I have so much to tell you about the journey and our experiences upon getting here, not the least frustrating of which involves getting our mail (an issue we're STILL dealing with), getting a decent Internet connection (which we have, finally but are not thrilled with) and NOT being able to get Vonage (which I absolutely hate). 

All that tedium aside, it is absolutely beautiful here and our house and new Heal My Hands office and production facility are fabulous!  I finally have room to work and a place to put everything!  Perhaps the coolest thing about the new digs is our resident feathered friends.  The previous owner has moved next door, but these guys are slow to change, and think this is their home, which I suppose it still is since we've been feed them goodies from the kitchen window; an act which will almost guarantee they never leave - LOL! 

  They follow us around without getting too close, and peer in any window we happen to be at in the hopes of getting yummies like the organic grapes and baby spinach we're been treating them with.  This shot is from my desk.  They came to the office windows looking for yet another hand out.  Unfortunately for them and fortunately for me - these windows don't open.

The house also came with four dogs, who also now live next door but haven't quite figured that out.  Ghost likes to sleep in this hollow she dug outside the office window. The other denizens are Cooper, a Golden Retriever who sulks if he can't get his own way, Nicky, a tailless mix who LOVES to bark all night long, and Maki, our admitted favorite, a basset hound with personality to spare.  We sometimes catch Maki out for a companionable stroll with one of his stuffed pals.  Harry Potter's Owl Hedwig seems to be this companion of choice.  During these outings, Maki, who will usually come galumphing over for a scratch and a belly rub ignores us completely.  Instead of hurrying over, he ambles genially with Hedwig tucked gently in jaws, towards some private tryst place only they are privy to. 

Oh, and there is not just a tree house, but a THREE STORY tree house that reaches over a tiny  pond.  Yep, we love it.                

Sheep Shots and Other News

Science:  Anthony and I used to have a neighbor who was very sweet, and very predictable.  When he was irked by something, he'd star a conversation with "You know what really irritates me?"  When we heard this opening question, we'd know we were in for at least an hour.  We've since moved twice, but that phrase has gone into our lexicographic Hall of Fame.  We dare not say it lest we send the other into fits of eye rolling.  But in this instance it's particularly apt. 

You know what really irritates me?  When a shelf load of books that has managed to stay nicely put for three years crashes over onto the fragile little wool growing paper sheep that Madeline and I spent half and hour putting together. I cobbled it back together and as you can see, I moved it to the windowsill, and I'm sure it will blow over.  The chemical soup that was supposed to make the sheep grow "wool" spilled all over and I don't know that there's enough left in the little tray to grow anything at all.  Sigh.

Local Wildlife: My daughter has a new addition to her circus family! His name is Skyler, and according to her, he does have eyes. He's a rescue who was found wandering in the streets of Jersey City.  but he cleaned up real nice and apparently loves kids and is okay with cats, which is good since they have three.  Isn't he cute! 

   

Knitting: And last but not least, I have to show you the gorgeous yarn my pal Scout gave me when we stayed with her in a couple of weeks ago.  when she heard I had no knitting with me, she also gave me a fabulous GOKNIT pouch and loaned me needles. Which only proves that Real Friends Don't Let Friends Fly Knitless!

PS - If you don't already have one of these GOKNIT pouches - go to Scouts and get one.  They're awesome and I'll never fly without it again!

I made up the pattern which I'll write out for you!

Remember Me?

I've been absent.  Not from my life, which has been full to bursting, but from my blog, and all of you.  And I'm sorry.  It isn't because I don't want to share all of the things that have been keeping me so busy, but because I've wanted to share it all too much and my mind runs on much faster than my fingers can type.  Does that make sense?  I've tried to sit down and type all of the things I have been thinking and feeling for a couple of weeks now, and haven't had the intestinal fortitude, or the typing skills, to do it.    

But a friend sent me a funny this morning and I just had to share it.  Many of you have seen this before, but as I hadn't, it may be new to some of you.  And it embodies my thoughts about spirituality these days, more on that later, so here it is:

The following is an actual question given on a University of Washington chemistry mid-term. The answer by one student was so
"profound"  that the professor shared it with colleagues, via the Internet, which is, Of course, why we now have the pleasure of enjoying it as well:

Bonus Question: Is Hell exothermic (gives off heat) or endothermic(absorbs heat)?

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law (gas cools when it expands and heats when it is compressed) or some
variant.

One student, however, wrote the following:

First, we need to know how the mass of Hell is changing in time. So we need to know the rate at which souls are moving into Hell and the rate at which they are leaving. I think that we can safely assume that once a soul gets to Hell, it will not leave. Therefore, no souls are leaving.

As for how many souls are entering Hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Most of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, you will go to Hell. Since there is more than One of these religions and since people do not belong to more than one religion, We can project that all souls go to Hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in Hell to increase exponentially. 

Now, we look at the  rate of change of the volume in Hell because Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in Hell to stay the same, the  volume of Hell has to expand proportionately as souls are added. This gives two possibilities: 

1. If Hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter Hell, then the temperature and pressure in Hell will increase until all Hell breaks loose. 

2. If Hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in Hell, then the 
temperature and pressure will drop until Hell freezes over.

So which is it? If we accept the postulate given to me by Teresa during my freshman year that, "It will be a cold day in Hell before I sleep with you," and take into account the act that I slept with her last night, then number two must be true, and thus I am sure that Hell is exothermic and has already frozen over. The corollary of this theory is that since Hell has frozen over, it follows that it is not 
accepting any more souls and is therefore, extinct......leaving only Heaven, thereby proving the existence of a divine being which explains why, last  night, Teresa kept shouting "Oh my God."

THIS STUDENT RECEIVED THE ONLY "A"

There was an article in this month's issue of AARP magazine (yes friends, I am old enought to get AARP) that talked about the spiritual beliefs of the over 50 crowd.  Apparently, more of them believe in an afterlife than had been noted in previous years. Some of them believe in Hell and Heaven.  A few of them believe that there is nothing at all after death.  Interesting that people's beliefs are changing over time.  I can only attribute this shift to the introduction and subsequent adoption of Eastern religions, primarily Buddhism, in the US over the past three decades.  Personally, I have never believed in Hell and Heaven as "places" and have always thought, even as a practicing Catholic, that we all got as many shots at it as we needed to reach higher states of consciousness.  Re-incarnation in other words. 

That said; last night, for myself, I crystallized the fact that we create out own Hells and Heavens right here on earth.  This line of thought may seem trite and tired to you.  "Duh - of course, so what?" You may be thinking.  But it was made so sharp and clear to me after the day I had with my daughters, one of whom is fretting about her job and life and the other whom is fretting about her weight and whether we'll be safe in our new home and state (more on this later) and in particular, whether or not we'll have water in case of a drought.  She worries, that one, about everything.  Which is what leads me to the reason I am writing this particular post when I have so many other things to tell you about.

In the face of all the fretting, both on Holly's part and mine (and believe me, I fret enough for all of us about everything too), I became overwhelmed with worry.  Will we have enough money, will we have enough work, will HMH do well enough, will I have friends, will we be okay in the new house, will we be okay in the "wilderness", will missing the girls be bearable or will I crumble, will I be able to create freeform there, will I be able to write there, will I be able to deal with the fact that we are no longer in the "civilized" Northeast, and will going to the post office everyday to pick up the mail because there's no mail delivery drive me crazy after about a week.  And that's only the tip of the iceberg.      

While we were standing outside at the car (and I was being eaten alive by mosquitoes) saying goodbye for the evening, I had to reassure her that we would be okay.  That we would NOT run out of water in the desert, and that I would in fact make friends once again in the new place and that she would be able to come and see us whenever she wanted and that we would in fact come home on a regular basis;  flying in the face of my own fears and pushing them out of the picture so I could comfort her.  I realized that I had entirely to many fears and worries to actually spend any more time worrying about them - I had too much work to do.  I had no time for the Hell on Earth of worry I had created - I needed a Heaven. 

I wish I could tell you that right at that moment I let it all go and like a baptism in the river, let the light of freedom from fear wash over me.  But that's not what happened.  What did happen, was that I was able to acknowledge the fact that we might be making a mistake by moving across the country to a place we have no knowledge of other than what we saw on vacation and read in the Santa Fe New Mexican - but we wouldn't know that until we got there.  And that was okay.  I realized that life is full of mistakes and bad decisions and that I would probably make a hell of a lot more of them.  And so what?  I could either beat myself up about them, or move on and remedy them as best I could.  I could fret in anticipation of the next mistake, or boldly step ahead into my future trusting that everything will work out - one way or another.  In other words, I could create Hell or Heaven all by myself.

I sincerely hope. in the Buddhist scope of things, that next time around, I will have accumulated enough merit to have a "better" life.  But honestly between you and me?  I think this one hasn't been all that bad, and like Heaven, it's getting better all the time.      

Next: Stay tuned for more about the move!

The Fungus Among Us

The first thing I wanted to tell you, which has nothing to do with the this post's title, is that I've had to put comments on moderation.  I'm inundated with comment SPAM!   I can't even tell you how  incredibly irritated I am about this.  I feel like every lowlife out there is throwing garbage at me with both hands.  I've tried all the little typepad selections and THEY STILL GET THROUGH!  So, in order to keep it all neat and clean - I have to moderate.  Which is still upsetting because at least one person still sees their hateful spam comments - me!  But at least it's not you.

And on that note, I finally figured out how to get my Bloglines back (no, they never contacted me) - I switched browsers.  Yep, that's right, I deep-sixed Outlook.  Now, my Google homepage is working, and my Bloglines is working and I got all of you back.  Not until after I had gone ahead and put nearly everyone into FeedBlitz, of course because that would have been too easy.   Outlook has been getting flakier and flakier lately and I hate flaky.  Firefox is slower - but it WORKS and that's good enough for me.

Now on to more important things: mushrooms.  I don't know if I told you or not, I don't think I did, but Anthony and I have been doing a bit of Amateur mycology lately.  We've even "planted" our own mushrooms: one week ago tomorrow - no mycelium showing yet.  But you know how it is when you get interested in something - you develop a search pattern for it.  As a result - we're finding mushrooms everywhere we look!  I took a couple of photo's of some species we came across in the last couple of days.  We;ve identified a few of them, not all.  I have no idea what the huge horn one is, I'll be taking the photo with us this Sunday to the New Jersey Mycological Association's Fungus Fest, in Morristown.   

Yeah, I know - it's a little weird.  But we're obsessive foodies and we love wild harvested goodies and we REALLY love mushrooms - so there it is.  And just so you don't fret - we are WELL aware of the dangers of wild shrooming.  We check, and double check, triple check and take spore prints and then check again.  And even though we're certain that one of the varieties we found are honey mushrooms - we didn't eat them.  Just in case.  I'll be bringing a sample of them to the gathering to to quadruple check before we fry them up.

Oh, and the shroom in the bottom photo had caps bigger than Anthony's hands!  And I know mushrooms aren't wildlife, technically - but some of them are pretty darn wild looking.

Bandit Returns

Lying in bed this morning, I heard Anthony slam the back screen door and run up the stairs.  I knew he had to show me something so I opened my eyes.  "Come on honey - I have something to show you"  He hands me my shorty pajama bottoms (which I don't sleep in) and my house flippies.  "I knew it was a raccoon when I saw the pizza box on the floor," he adds as he shows me the discarded box on the back porch floor.  It had been tossed on a chair last night after dinner. 

Sure enough, the poor little thing was lying frightened in the hav-a-heart!  The little guy gently sniffed Anthony's fingers as he fumbled with the apparatus to open the trap door.  A. had to tip the trap backwards to encourage him out.  He turned and ambled away between the shed and portable garage.  Halfway down the alley between them, he slipped underneath to the burrow left by the groundhogs we re-located to the cemetary last year.   We like raccoons and this little guy was just adorable.  I'll leave him a banana and some water to wash it in tonight.

Bolly

We've had him for two weeks now, and I snapped the photo but never got around to introducing him to you.  He is an English Budgie and his name is Bolly, although on second thought, we might easily have named him Shriek.  But Bolly fits him as every time he hears any music that even vaguely resembles anything out of Bollywood he goes nuts.  Singing and bobbing and fluttering his wings.  We figured he must have heard a lot of Hindi flick music when he was a baby.  Sigh.  We don't listen to much of it around here, Radio Paradise being the primary office pick. But just to make him happy, we've been slipping one in now and again whenever we can stand it.

He was supposed to be a mother's day/birthday gift for my step-mom, but she's so tied up with my dad these days that she didn't want him.  BIG sigh.  So now he lives in the office with us, and truthfully, we love having him.  He was hand fed and raised so he's comfortable on the finger already.  And he adds such a bright happy little presence - it's almost worth his music.