Happy Mothers' Day

Happy Mothers' Day to ALL Mothers out there today.  You give so much of yourselves all the time.  

Thank you!

A beautiful mother taking care of her wee babies!  

Off the to Fiber Festival for me again today.  

My gift to myself for Mother's Day.

Thomas.....alias "The Mole"

This is how Thomas spends his days......under a thick, warm blanket beside a sunny window. 

 I think he was a mole in a former life.

(I have a strong desire to go and watch the Wizard of Oz for some reason.)  :O)

Spring Cleaning, Spiders and SCOBY

I've waited long enough and have realized foolishly that the spring cleaning won't take care of itself no matter how much I complain about how my body already hurts from my job.  No sympathy from dust bunnies; they are content to take up residence not only in the nooks and crannies of the various rooms, but boldly tumble across the hard wood floors, as well.  Cheeky dust bunnies!

I was going through my book, The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, preparing for my watercolor lesson, when I found an aged, yellowed newspaper clipping that my mom had saved about spiders.  Mom and I were on the same page concerning spiders and these few lines summed up our opinion of the creatures quite nicely:

"I allow the spiders the run of the house.  I figure that any predator that hopes to make a living on whatever smaller creatures might blunder into a 4-inch square bit of space in the corner of the bathroom where the tub meets the floor, needs every bit of my support." .....Annie Dillard.

In the process of scrubbing walls and floors and windows in the living room today I found all sorts of evidence that the resident spiders did very well for themselves this past winter.  All sorts of bound up insect bodies were visible as I moved books and furniture.  Since I supplied them with shelter and heat for the frosty part of the year it is good they did their part with the Asian Lady Beetles and the like. However, as I futzed about with my dust rag I did not come across any spiders, nary a one.  Maybe they've all headed outside to enjoy the early spring.  More food for them, less cleaning for me.

Today was the start of a new experiment.  I've been reading quite a lot about kombucha and the health benefits it offers.  True to form for me, I would have to make it from scratch.  Why would I simply buy a bottle when I can go to all the work to make it?  To make a batch of kombucha I needed among other things a SCOBY which stands for "symbiotic cultures of bacteria and yeast". A SCOBY looks a little like a mushroom and is considered the "mother" for making the resulting beverage.  Hhhmmmm, didn't have one and I have no idea who would have one around here (I am notably the odd one in this area; a fact of which I am very proud, if I must say so myself....builds character).  Guess I would simply have to make my own SCOBY so I could make my own kombucha. I purchased the organic black tea, organic sugar and a bottle of raw, unpasteurized kombucha (which I could simply drink and not go through all the trouble of making it... Novel Idea!!).

The ingredients and recipe.  The glass in the magazine contains the SCOBY.

Store bought kombucha in the mason jar and brewed organic black tea and sugar in the measuring cup.

All ingredients mixed, getting to know each other and making a plan.

Now we wait.

 So, now I have to wait for 2-3 weeks for the "mushroom" to form so I can make the kombucha.  The  batch is suppose to rest undisturbed during this time. I informed Dave of this news and he asked if that meant he had to talk nicely when in the presence of the mixture.  I said that would be preferable......I should introduce him to the cheeky dust bunnies!

Chicken and Noodles...Not What You Think.

Let me preface this post by saying that I am a massage therapist in a small Wisconsin town.  I have the
most wonderful clients...period.  I've seen them through troubled times and they have certainly supported me when I've gone through a few of my own.  They are also interested in my life outside the office often asking about my knitting/weaving/spinning/cheese making/soap making/gardening/canning/basket making/reading/cross-stitching/the progress of my quilt that I started 22 years ago "Is it done yet, have you been working on it?"/etc. But they seem to especially love to hear about the crazy antics of my barn yard critters.  These critters have certainly given me plenty of fodder for sharing stories.

Recently I shared the story with one of my long time clients (sweet, sweet lady) about my chickens.  I had read somewhere on-line that chickens like cooked noodles.  On a day off I decided to attack the pantry shelves and get things organized.  I found a plastic bag with several packages of Ramen Noodles.  They were from our daughter's college days when she ate more Ramen Noodles than I care to know about.  I don't eat them so thought, "Why not see if Alisdair and the Ladies would eat these?"  I threw out the flavor packet, cooked the noodles up and carried them to the hen house.  And....as they say at the end of a particularly robust sports event...."And the crowd went wild!!".  Ya, that's what it was like.  Chickens and noodles everywhere.  Not a cluck or putt was heard, just tiny little satisfied eating noises.

Over the next few months I was buying the 10 for $1.00 packages and doling them out to the girls on those really chilly mornings.  They could see me coming as they peered through their window and there would be a great scrambling noise as they jumped off the roosts and lots of shuffling/scuffling noises as they would jockey for the most forward position at the door.  It was difficult for me to enter the hen house because of all the jumping up and backwards flips the hens were performing to get at the noodles. I never had to worry about Alisdair attacking me as I walked out the door because he was busy trying to protect his own beakful of noodles from the hens.

My client just could not believe that the chickens would eat noodles.  She loved the story, shaking her head and laughing as she left the office.

 Fast forward a few weeks.  I was just finishing up a massage and was on my way out the treatment room door.  I look over to my appointment counter to see my client standing there smiling with.....

 Yes, that is a CASE of Ramen Noodles!!!! (Notice the flavor?!?!?)  She said she had been in Sam's Club and saw the case of noodles and decided I needed them.  Didn't I tell you I have THE BEST clients!!

So here are a few shots of what happened this morning when I gifted the feathered flock their noodles from Mary.

The starting point....the hens watched from the screen door as I put noodles in three of their feeding dishes.

They're out the door and the frantic race begins.

These hens are not petite eaters.

Rosemary running away with a mouthful and Alisdair hoping for a few bits.

Back at the sheep's feed bunk it was much more civilized and calm.  Cute butts, don't you think?

Smitten

Back in the day....oh, around l968 to 1970 or so, terrariums were all the rage and I loved it.  My Sweet Mother gave me the assorted paraphernalia to get one set up with little bits of things like moss, straw flowers, miniature plants, bone china critters....all in a little magical world of my own making. I cherished those minute, magical places.   To my delight they are coming back, along with table top fairy gardens. 

I happened to stop by a florist's shop today just to see what they had to offer and I left the store with an armload of possibilities.  Why wasn't anyone there to stop me!?!?!  I only bought plants and the flower pot since I had so many things here at home that I could use to make a meditation garden.  I wanted something I could use for a focal point during my self Reiki interludes. Here are some pictures of the resulting mystical meditation garden complete with a few of the "girls" from Bell Pine creations. 

The Beginnings

 

 The finished creation.  

The turtle is there as an ancient symbol for Woman's Strength and Wisdom along with a shell from my Reiki teacher; in honor of my Reiki II attunement.

This is the wee little sculpture of Mother Earth embracing us.

The Sisters are there in front holding a small prayer bowl suitable for holding small bits of paper with prayers, concerns, dreams, or presently, a tiny marble that resembles Mother Earth.  Very appropriate since She is in huge need of our prayers right now.

I kind of feel like Bob Ross.......this is a Happy Little World with Happy Little Plants and Happy Little, Funky Ladies! 

Domesticity...Well, at least I try!

It was a good run, these past four days.  I accomplished much and feel a sense of completion on this Sabbath day. 

I got some cleaning done, a new cowl started with a new technique that I hadn't done before and that went well (if you know my knitting history you will understand why the "feel good" vibes washed over me when I didn't screw it up and either had to fix it or rip and start over.....my most common practice). I made soap at home for the first time and it is now sliced and curing on the counter.  I had beeswax on hand so did an olive oil/beeswax variety that is a lovely shade of butterscotch custard.  I had time on Friday so I started a batch of feta cheese and finished that up last night after its curing period.  It is even better than the first batch I made...yum.  I listened and took notes on the next class of Sacred Trees ~ Medicine Trees and learned about conifers.  I may have to have a cup of pine needle tea later this afternoon.   I attended a refresher course on Reiki II that was so joyful that during my attunement my instructor said she sensed "Bliss" coming from me.  Thank you!!  I will accept that!!! Then I met Deb Jones for a mouth watering tour of a local plant nursery topped off by a wonderful lunch of cracker crust pizza topped with fresh basil, tomatoes and mozzarella.  Today I will make four loaves of our favorite bread, Oatmeal Bread, from the whey left over from the cheese making. All in all.....it has been a wonderful, wonderful four days.

However, in all this domestic bliss there can come a time when we experience a few glitches.  Let's take my latest pizza making episode.  I've found a wonderful crust recipe from one of my cookbooks, Blue Eggs and Yellow Tomatoes (delightful book) that I tend to make on a regular basis.  I roll it really thin with a rolling pin and we go from there.  As I was getting ready to roll out the dough this time I got to wondering about "tossing and twirling" it like they do in the books and on TV. In the words of our dear neighbor, John, "How hard could it be?"...just before some sort of catastrophe happens, I decided to try it.  I stretched it out a bit, rolling it around on my fist until I got a little size to it.  I was ready.  I started to twirl it gently, then a little more effort and a little more and a lot more.  Then the unthinkable happened.  It flew off my hand right into the sink filled with dish water.  Blast and Damn!!  I grabbed the dough and being the frugal person I am I turned on the faucet and rinsed all the suds off the dough, then patted it dry with a paper towel and let it rest a bit.  I think it deserved a wee bit of a rest to calm its doughy nerves from being flung into the air and landing in water at the hands of an inexperienced pizza dough tosser. Visions of Lucille Ball were dancing before my eyes as this all happened.  :O)  All was well in the end and Dave didn't find out about it until after supper!  He's a good sport.

So, a deep breath and many thanks for a wonderful few days. 

Sacred Trees

I love trees.  This is not a weak statement.  The sight of trees and their many moods and colors makes a direct path to my heart and solar plexus.  They buoy me up when I am down.  I've looked at trees in a winter landscape, standing tall, bare, stark and all alone on the prairie and am amazed at their strength and endurance to withstand the winds and blizzards; yet still they stand looking magnificent.  I draw courage and hope from those contemplative moments.

When I die, I want to be cremated and have my ashes put into a deep hole with an Oak Tree going in after me.  I've told my dear husband this and he just smiles.  I finally made it clear to him that I am not joking.  Do not put me in a sealed box away from the elements.  I NEED to be with the elements.  After death I will grow on in the tree.  So let's see....a shovel, a tree, a bagpipe player playing all my favorite Celtic songs and my ashes....yup, that will be all I want at my funeral.  Oh!...and it has be an Oak Tree that is Oak Wilt resistant!  :O)  But I digress.....this isn't meant to be morbid or a foreshadow...just the facts.

I am currently taking a class on-line entitled Sacred Trees ~ Sacred Medicine with Gail Faith Edwards.  We've had three sessions so far and I am learning about all the medicine these wonderful creatures have to offer us.  I've always looked at trees with a special affinity but now it is greatly enhanced.

This class got me to thinking about the trees that have been taken down around our area.  Each time a tree comes down I have a pain in my core.  Coming from Iowa, where there aren't nearly as many trees as there are here in Wisconsin, both Dave and I lament about how unconcerned people are about the value of the trees not only to us but the birds and other creatures that depend on those trees.  They are just another thing to be "harvested" here.  Zip...zip and they come crashing down.

One such tree was a huge Oak that "had" to be taken down to make way for road improvement.  When we saw how many of the Oaks in this particular cluster were marked for death, we talked to the neighbor about it (the trees were on his right-of-way).  He was shocked to see how many trees they had marked for unnecessary destruction and had it out with the county and was able to save most of the cluster except for the largest, most majestic Oak.  I was walking down the lane the day the Oak came down.  I heard a terrible, piercing noise coming from the southwest, across the neighbor's pasture (was it the cry of the Oak when the chainsaw cut into its bark???).  I turned just in time to see the Oak crash down into the roadway.  Then an incredible thing happened.  It was as if I could feel wave upon wave of energy from that Oak coming across the field into my solar plexus...it was a palpable feeling.  I felt like the tree was communicating with someone who cared about it.  I was incredibly sad.

Dave went to the county crew and asked what was to be done with the tree. It was going to be ground up into wood chips....(don't get me started).  He asked if it could be dropped off at our place and we could use it for firewood.  They agreed and came with this huge mass of Oak logs that barely fit in their county truck.  They dumped it in an unceremonious manner onto the yard.  I crawled up on the logs and started to count the rings.  This tree had been here since George Washington walked the land.  I took some time of solitude with the tree, grieving with it and finally thanking it for all the warmth it would provide for our family for a very long time.  We are still using that wood and I am grateful to it every time I put another one of its sections in the wood stove.

So call me a sappy (no pun intended) tree-hugger....no apologies from me.  Destruction of our environment in this country is rampant....there is little regard for our Mother Earth and all she provides for us despite our treatment of Her.  This class has put me in touch with people who feel the same as I do and that is refreshing.  I can finally talk about these things without having particular people roll their eyes when I share my feelings.  And....I am thankful for those folks around here who do let me go on and on about my thoughts on such things...(you know who you are and I Thank You!!).

Have a Blessed Day... Oh, and....go out and hug a tree;  the tree will thank you!