repository for the occasional perambulatory rumination

Every cow carries the entire history of civilization / around all day in its mouth. It tastes like grass. from poet Robert Moore’s book, “The Golden Book of Bovanites”. picture taken from just inside my front door. apparently there’s a break in the fence somewhere . . .

not that we’re completely finished unpacking inside, but after the moody weather of last week, who could stay inside on such a gorgeous day. sooooo, we decided that one of the major projects of today would be creating a garden for our quirk recycled pieces i like to call yard jewelry. today was only a […]

(note: this is what i suppose you’d call a cross-post in that i posted this very same bit on my other blog, i’m sure it’s probably not a nice thing to do, but it’s the first time i’ve ever done this, and well, i just had to today, you see. not only is this […]

after cleaning out the litterboxes, i am once again amazed at how much lighter the cats must become every day. it’s my routine to scoop out the litterboxes first thing every morning. i often ask myself “how masochistic can you get to start your day this way?” but i play the ole’ game that’s a […]

waterfalls, a reminder of how storms in other places can have far-reaching effects colorful leaves, a reminder how it is possible for people of different backgrounds, ages, and experiences can come together beautifully hungry butterflies, a reminder to see opportunities to feast in what might look like complete chaos

it seems to me today that i do more than a little whining here, and i don’t really know why that is. maybe my writing digits seem enamored with the notion that to write something serious and touching and insightful means, well, it just sometimes comes out rather whiney. petulant. mealy mouthed, that’s all. and […]

we’d notice with amazement the birdfeeder on the ground, chortling about how huge the squirrel must’ve been to straighten out the iron hanger. then, while i sweep up and pick up, mr. thrillenity notices the strange markings on the tree asking slowly: could it be that a bear steadied against the tree with one paw […]

yes, nature is providing salve for my soul of late, helping me bring order to the chaos. today was a travel day, and once arrived, phoebe and i went straightaway for a romp outside – she to bury some tasty morsels for future snack attacks and me to nap on a rock in the sun, […]

it occurs to me today that a mother’s love is like a stream: amorphous water that manages to keep moving regardless. trees become dislodged upstream, rocks float downstream and stop, and the water simply moves around or over or under or sometimes through. never stopping. knowing – in ways that only water can know – […]

muscle memory is such a good thing. finally reacquainted with my sewing machine – the one i haven’t used in decades, the one with a bobbin in need of a refill. but i could not remember how to wind the bobbin. until finally i told my brain to shush and turned the job over to […]

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