Monday, May 28, 2012

And Still Through Every Clime and Age

The stars are failing, and the sky
     is like a field of faded flowers
The winds on weary wings go by;
     The moon hides, and the tempest
            And still through every clime
                   and age
            I wander on a pilgrimage 
             That all men know an idle 
             For that the goal I seek is--

--James Whitcomb Riley

What a difference a 3-day weekend makes!  I feel rested, caught up, not in a hurry for anything, and peaceful.  This one extra day is precious and my praise for it tells me that I've been doing too much lately.  And that dang, am I ready for summer vacation or what?!   We've had lots of fun this weekend: dressing up for Caroline's doll's birthday party:
We were sooooo fancy!
We were outside all weekend and took all of our meals on the deck (except for today--raining!).  I weeded, mowed and transplanted seedlings (finally!).  Things are getting huge and looking lush!  So far, we've harvested our first radishes and spinach:
Pallet raised beds--my, how you've grown!  
 Watched poppies burst into bloom:

Enjoyed seeing the backyard flower bed NOT get scratched and pecked:

Loving the Cayuse irises from my dad and Tina's place:

The beans will soon cover this:

Who doesn't love a purple iris?!  And they smell sooooo good!

The chickens are now fenced in on the north side of my house.  They have their own side lawn, a garden bed to dig around in, rocks with hiding bugs and slugs, and their new favorite place--under the deck. While I miss watching them roam around the backyard, this is safer for them and less garden destruction for me.  Plus, they can be out all day, even when I'm at work, so...more freedom but less range.  Seems like a pretty good trade.  I made their fence out of spare parts from OM, leftover bits of lattice that I found behind my shed, the old chair rail trim that used to be in my dining room, and...grosgrain ribbon.  Notice I did not say BUILT the fence, but rather MADE the fence.  The ribbon was necessary to create the illusion of a tall barrier that they should not try to fly over.  And I must say, it's working beautifully.  Don't underestimate the utility of sewing notions:
Hello, ladies!  Don't try to escape--muhwah ha ha!

I do believe this ladylike, fluttery iris is sticking her tongue out at us!

Peanut butter French toast for breakfast today--yummy!

I wish you a day filled with all the pretty flowers!

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?

O chestnut tree, great rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, 
How can we know the dancer from the dance?
--W.B. Yeats

Those are good, thoughtful questions, aren't they?  I've been thinking about questions like these a lot lately, as I've been so busy and consumed by many things, great and small.  Not blogging, always feeling like I'm running to the next thing, too many balls in the air.  In the evenings to decompress I like to just sit quietly.  No blogging.  No Netflix movie.  Limited plans.  And I think, am I the root, the blossom or the bole?  If I had to pick, I'd say: the root.  Grounded, responsible, stubborn.  Some days I'd prefer to be the bole and just drift off in a puff!  And who wouldn't want to consider herself a blossom?  Hello!  I know, I know...I'm all three...we all are.  We're all the dancer, we're all the dance.  But I like to think about things like this, when it's dark and still and the world is quiet.  

I do my best every day to really live it.  I'm trying to be a quieter mom (read: less of a yeller). I'm striving for peace in my daily life.  Less worry.  Letting things go.  Saying yes nearly every dang time when a kid asks for another popsicle; today Jack had 6 and Caroline had 4.  Who cares???  Gotta go to the store tomorrow for more!  Last night, the kids and I took our neighbor's puppy for a walk to the park and around town a bit.  It's a great pleasure to walk after dinner; I just love it!  Jack even found the first salmon berries of the year and climbed down a steep creek bank to get some for all of us.  When we got home, we sat at the top of our driveway and had a popsicle. The concrete was still really warm from the day's heat, the sun was going down and the sky was pretty, and we just enjoyed the 10 minutes of sitting there, slurping down the 'cicles, trying not to let one side break off and fall on the ground, soaking up each other and the moment.  This is what matters to me the most: dancing the dance.