The hen is back on the nest. Now this isn't news... hens are generally expected to sit on their nests, doing their duty to nurture and protect the prospetive chickies through gestation. But this wanna be momma has lost all sense of limitations re: her responsibilities. I wrote about her the other day - how she's been nesting since before Thanksgiving. I took her off the nest that day and put her in w/the others - in her own little nesting box. However, over the course of the last few days, the chicks in that living space have been able to come and go as I did not keep the coop locked. Well, guess where she is? Yep - back on the nest where I didn't get rid of the eggs. She has been sitting for about 3 consecutive days and continues to sit and wait, through the bitter cold and today's snow. I don't know what to do - or if I should do anything. She is spending her life waiting for something that will never happen and who am I to determine she should do otherwise? But, but, she's a chicken. She doesn't know those eggs will never hatch. I know they won't but she doeesn't. Is there any level of chicken awareness that will reveal that piece of information to her so that she can continue to go on with the business of living? Which isn't much more than eating, pecking, scratching and sleeping. Not quite the full itinerary that us humans have. Our days can be as full or empty of activity as we like - theoretically speaking. Some of us have full schedules that have more to do with the simple desire to live and meet basic needs while others have the freedom to decide how full or empty they want their days to be.
And The Vinny - (her name - sort of) is free from all the angst and expectation that we have upon awaking each morning. There is no thinking - no considering the fact that her due date came and went weeks ago. She doesn't care or more likely - she doesn't process that reality..she just sits and waits; sits and waits. And I can only assume that she is fine with it. I really shouldn't let her just sit there...it's cold, bitterly cold and there is nothing that is going to come out of this...other than a frostbitten comb. Yet I also wish I had her persistence and determination...if I did maybe at least one of my collection of ideas would come to fruition. One book, play, collection of poems, children's story, something would be finished. Or I would have found a way to pursue earning a living that would provide more income so that we could finish the many un-done projects around here - house or farm. Something would be done. But it's all a work in progress. Dave feels that it being a work in progress is progress. I understand that there are things which have been accomplished but I want the Big Project to be closer to done. You know, the upstairs bathroom which has been waiting for 3 years...or the downstair bathroom which needs to be moved...or the other side of the house which could conceivably be an apartment - thereby serving 2 purposes; that of providing someone w/a home and providing us w/income. The stalls would be done, the chicken coops completed, other avenues of income would be open to us...but then we're back to the beginning of the circle. Dave finds his satisfaction in the working on the projects. I don't mind and even enjoy it but want to see some completion. And then I go out and see The Vinny. And she just is....
Still is....I think I need some of that.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Ok -writing again
Why is it that I create so well in my head, walking around the farm and then when it's time to write, I can't remember anything at all that I intended to write about. Yes, I know, I should be carrying a note pad and pen with me so that I can jot down reminder notes. But I don't. So, I'm left with remembering and that doesn't work so well these days. Oh well. It's Yom Kippur today...the day of atonement. I am clear I have much to atone for...
Ahh - the memory has returned. The other theme of yesterday...family. Although it is actually much larger than that. I was asked a few days ago why I do what I do? Why am I so driven to do the things I do - the things that I think matter. I seem driven and why is it that the 2 or three important things that I do don't seem to be enough? Well, I've been asked that many times before...I've been asked if I think I'm not good enough or if I have to do more for God to love me... I've thought about that on many occasions...over time, through the years. I've never really been able fully understand what or why I do - only that when an opportunity to give, to serve, to be there for others is set before me, then I respond. Yes, I know, I don't need to save the world. Trust me - I've gotten over that. But if there is something I can do in my little corner of it, then I want to do it. Why? Because I believe that we are called to "bear one another's burdens", to "do justice, love mercy, & walk humbly with God", and to "proclaim the year of the Lord's favor...." No, I am not called to save the world, but when God puts a call upon my heart then aren't I to answer it. Lofty isn't it? I don't mean to be. All I can say is that it is cellular - this need to respond when a need is expressed. I have pared down, I do say no, I don't expect that I am the answer to all the questions but yes to some.
And then there is the real essence of why I do what I do - why I am who I am. It came to me today - not in an epiphany moment - no, that would be too easy...but as the culmination of years and years of trying to answer the question that was put to me again earlier this week - what drives me? Why do I do what I do, be who I be? Because - after years of not wanting to be like my mom and dad - and then years of respecting them, I find I do indeed want to be like them. Not a carbon copy -that's never going to happen but to live out the values that they embodied and lived. Those values which echo or reflect the values I espouse and have sought to live out through my life. And why are they my values? Not from going to Sunday school or church so much although I did hear of them and was taught them on a spiritual level but because Mom & Dad lived this way...because of who they were created to be. They weren't "believers"...they just lived out hospitality as is taught was the way of our spiritual ancestors, They lived a life that sometimes looked more Christian than those who spend their lives professing their faith.
I want to be like Mom & Dad...in that I have sought to re-create family - re-create hospitality to the stranger - (perhaps entertaining angels, unaware.) I came from a created family - adopted at birth, but loved no differently than a child born to her parents. I lived with these people who opened their hearts and their home to the people who needed to be welcomed or to find respite from the upheavals of life. I didn't always appreciate the effort they made to make the world a little less of a harsh place - especially when it seemed to interfere with my personal wants and desires. Ultimately whether by osmosis, patterning, or whatever element it was, I did come to own the essence that when there is a need, I can be someone who responds to meet it. Not for self-aggrandizement although have also wondered whether there is anything as pure altruism, as it does feel good to be there for others. It does...can't ignore or deny that reality. But when I was asked, again, I wanted to discover the answer and I think I have.
And then there is the real essence of why I do what I do - why I am who I am. It came to me today - not in an epiphany moment - no, that would be too easy...but as the culmination of years and years of trying to answer the question that was put to me again earlier this week - what drives me? Why do I do what I do, be who I be? Because - after years of not wanting to be like my mom and dad - and then years of respecting them, I find I do indeed want to be like them. Not a carbon copy -that's never going to happen but to live out the values that they embodied and lived. Those values which echo or reflect the values I espouse and have sought to live out through my life. And why are they my values? Not from going to Sunday school or church so much although I did hear of them and was taught them on a spiritual level but because Mom & Dad lived this way...because of who they were created to be. They weren't "believers"...they just lived out hospitality as is taught was the way of our spiritual ancestors, They lived a life that sometimes looked more Christian than those who spend their lives professing their faith.
I want to be like Mom & Dad...in that I have sought to re-create family - re-create hospitality to the stranger - (perhaps entertaining angels, unaware.) I came from a created family - adopted at birth, but loved no differently than a child born to her parents. I lived with these people who opened their hearts and their home to the people who needed to be welcomed or to find respite from the upheavals of life. I didn't always appreciate the effort they made to make the world a little less of a harsh place - especially when it seemed to interfere with my personal wants and desires. Ultimately whether by osmosis, patterning, or whatever element it was, I did come to own the essence that when there is a need, I can be someone who responds to meet it. Not for self-aggrandizement although have also wondered whether there is anything as pure altruism, as it does feel good to be there for others. It does...can't ignore or deny that reality. But when I was asked, again, I wanted to discover the answer and I think I have.
What if I was to write today? Just write and write and write...oh wait - should that have read, "what if I were to write today? Here we go - one sentence in and the editor is already working. But whatever. I know that writers write...and if I want to be a writer I need to write. I have time during my days to do this - yet I don't. Still working on uncovering the obstacle. Sometimes I think if I could just go away for a week...actually I probably can. That would be my test. I will either write or I won't. Lord knows I have had some really good ideas to write about. But don't. But The Daily E-Mo - Geranium Farm, or Anne Lamott, that's my genre. I could do this...but I don't. Well, not consistently. Sporadically speaking here I am again...writing about not writing. SMH. This is absurd. And yesterday I had 2 really good themes to work w/but a day later, not having written them down, I once again am writing about not writing.
Well, there was the chicken - who I know should have some kind of profound lesson for me, thus the world, that I could use...the fact that one little chicken has been sitting on a clutch since before Thanksgiving...with one or two forays from the nest. It has to be more however or I don't think the poor girl would be alive. But 2 days ago, after observing for so many days straight that she was still on that nest, I picked her up and put her in the coop with the others. I mean, her clutch was in the wagon seat, in the barn, no protection from the icy cold of this month and it just didn't seem right to let her stay there any longer, even though seeing her there every morning was something I contemplated in the hopes it would inspire some insightful meaningful work on my part. Finally it just got to be too much. I mean her persistence is indeed admirable...but after so long with NO possible hope that the eggs would hatch? It just got sad. So, is there a lesson in there about knowing when to keep pursuing something and knowing when to stop, to let go, to move on? I don't know - you tell me.
Well, there was the chicken - who I know should have some kind of profound lesson for me, thus the world, that I could use...the fact that one little chicken has been sitting on a clutch since before Thanksgiving...with one or two forays from the nest. It has to be more however or I don't think the poor girl would be alive. But 2 days ago, after observing for so many days straight that she was still on that nest, I picked her up and put her in the coop with the others. I mean, her clutch was in the wagon seat, in the barn, no protection from the icy cold of this month and it just didn't seem right to let her stay there any longer, even though seeing her there every morning was something I contemplated in the hopes it would inspire some insightful meaningful work on my part. Finally it just got to be too much. I mean her persistence is indeed admirable...but after so long with NO possible hope that the eggs would hatch? It just got sad. So, is there a lesson in there about knowing when to keep pursuing something and knowing when to stop, to let go, to move on? I don't know - you tell me.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
January - ruminations
"And the seasons they go 'round and 'round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game."
Hard to imagine this song is as timely today as when Joni Mitchell first wrote it. A timeless song about the seasons, the circle of life. On this day my thoughts entailed nothing noteworthy...only continued reflections on our life here on the farm. Zeus - a REALLY big horse was too skittish the other day for Dave to put his blanket on but we finally got around to doing it today as it is supposed to get REALLY cold tonight. It took a joint effort on both Dave's and my part but I am pretty sure it was the apple pieces that really enthralled him. And the girls. As soon as they discovered that apples were in the picture, they came trotting over to see what was up. They knew something was as they flanked him in an effort to protect him from the "big bad people." He didn't seem to mind too much as long as he could see the apples in his sight. It was really funny. He remained the gentle giant that he is throughout the procedure, focusing solely on my hands which held the bowl w/the apple pieces. Can I be as focused? I know when I am really interested in pursuing something, I will have that laser like concentration but it's just as true that I can easily find other things to be as enthralled with. It's not like the ADD kind of distraction...more like realizing early on I've gone as far as I can with something.
Hopefully the dedication to writing, praying and farming will continue to be fleshed out in this new year...I mean none of us can go back and redo the past but going to hold onto the ponies as they go up and down a little longer.
Just like the dedicated little Vinnie. There are two Vinnies left out of the original 5 - part banty/part whatever. One of them laid 3 eggs before Thanksgiving - in the seat of one of our carts. Fortunately it's in the barn and somewhat protected from the elements. I say fortunately because she has been sitting there since mid-November trying to hatch these eggs. It's not happening. Other hens have pecked at her trying to get her to move since they want to lay their eggs where she is....she isn't going for it. She did get up once to do something - I saw her running around but she went right back to setting and there seems to be no sign of her moving. I checked the eggs out in that brief moment that she was running around and yeah - there's nothing to hatch. But she's hanging in there. I wonder what keeps her going. Instinct? A glitch? Not sure but hope her little heart doesn't break.
Well, the day is almost over. The sun has set...the circle continues, the cycle, the wheels go round and round.
Tomorrow the routine begins again...meetings, the gym, the chores, engaging in the day to day events...no wise words, no epiphany (that's Sunday, lol), just more of the same...the good same.
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game."
Hard to imagine this song is as timely today as when Joni Mitchell first wrote it. A timeless song about the seasons, the circle of life. On this day my thoughts entailed nothing noteworthy...only continued reflections on our life here on the farm. Zeus - a REALLY big horse was too skittish the other day for Dave to put his blanket on but we finally got around to doing it today as it is supposed to get REALLY cold tonight. It took a joint effort on both Dave's and my part but I am pretty sure it was the apple pieces that really enthralled him. And the girls. As soon as they discovered that apples were in the picture, they came trotting over to see what was up. They knew something was as they flanked him in an effort to protect him from the "big bad people." He didn't seem to mind too much as long as he could see the apples in his sight. It was really funny. He remained the gentle giant that he is throughout the procedure, focusing solely on my hands which held the bowl w/the apple pieces. Can I be as focused? I know when I am really interested in pursuing something, I will have that laser like concentration but it's just as true that I can easily find other things to be as enthralled with. It's not like the ADD kind of distraction...more like realizing early on I've gone as far as I can with something.
Hopefully the dedication to writing, praying and farming will continue to be fleshed out in this new year...I mean none of us can go back and redo the past but going to hold onto the ponies as they go up and down a little longer.
Just like the dedicated little Vinnie. There are two Vinnies left out of the original 5 - part banty/part whatever. One of them laid 3 eggs before Thanksgiving - in the seat of one of our carts. Fortunately it's in the barn and somewhat protected from the elements. I say fortunately because she has been sitting there since mid-November trying to hatch these eggs. It's not happening. Other hens have pecked at her trying to get her to move since they want to lay their eggs where she is....she isn't going for it. She did get up once to do something - I saw her running around but she went right back to setting and there seems to be no sign of her moving. I checked the eggs out in that brief moment that she was running around and yeah - there's nothing to hatch. But she's hanging in there. I wonder what keeps her going. Instinct? A glitch? Not sure but hope her little heart doesn't break.
Well, the day is almost over. The sun has set...the circle continues, the cycle, the wheels go round and round.
Tomorrow the routine begins again...meetings, the gym, the chores, engaging in the day to day events...no wise words, no epiphany (that's Sunday, lol), just more of the same...the good same.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
WT....???
Good afternoon Me...or you...or whomever comes across this.
You'll excuse I hope the sort of crass title of today's post. It's mainly the thought I had earlier about the fact I had dribbled the day away - unable to take advantage of a HUGE chunk of uncommitted time to sit and write. I guess it's true. I am not a writer. I am not passionate about or committed to it. I am unable or unwilling to sit and do what is necessary in the pursuit of this (so-called) gift I have. By fluke or happenstance - actually, I think those are synonyms but I don't want to take the time out to check because if I go to a dictionary site I'll have allowed myself once again to be distracted from my self-appointed task - that of writing - I had ALL day to write, read, relax basically because a) I drove the college kid to her classes today and was not going to drive home and back again to put 140 miles on the 2 week old/new/old car, and I had to take said car to the dealership for some service thanks to the "check engine light" which was off when I picked up the car but showed up again a few days later and I got to sit in their rockin' lounge from 8:30 a.m. until 12:30 p.m. and I had all that time to write. Uh - oh - that is a seriously long run-on sentence but if I stopped to edit, I'd never get it written and then I'd get frustrated or distracted and there would go the attempt again.
No, this isn't a rumination with direct bearing on or because of the farm...it's more like an ongoing thread that runs consistently through my life but does not seem to be turning into anything more than these periodic bursts of written blathering. Which I am good at. I should have looked into a radio or talk show gig early on. Heaven knows if I can do anything it's talk. I have been quiet for short periods of time throughout my life - shoot, I was even SHY back in the day when I would have preferred to DIE rather than speak in front of anyone, never mind strangers but now I do it on a regular basis. Today I even asked a stranger if she would be willing to share a cupcake with me. I was (still am) in Barnes & Noble at the Colonie Mall where I finally ended up after my morning at the service garage and I wanted that little extra sweet treat which as an adult I am now free to get whenever I want just because I want to and so I did, with the straight coffee, small of course to compensate for the extra indulgence and so after taking a little bite, I realized it was too sweet for me to finish on my own and I wasn't going to bring it home with me so I asked this young woman if she'd like to have half of it. I knew she was interested because when she saw me with the cupcake, she asked what it was and I told her it was the pumpkin cupcake. She then looked at the dessert case and decided she'd pass. However, I knew that she would be willing to share because what probably held her back was her own inner voice saying, "no, don't need it, don't spend the money, don't indulge, you don't have enough" or some variation on that theme. To be clear, I'm not advocating all out indulgence of the epcurion bent or the ignoring of Inner Wisdom, but just suggesting that perhaps she held back on the cupcake because it was too much but 1/2 would have been just right so I figured we'd both benefit and indeed, she was surprised but willing to share and so now 2 instead of 1 indulged a little bit but not overly so and can savor the pleasure of the unexpected. And the yummy. I like to share food although it seems others in my life circle would prefer not to. It's not that either of us are fanantical about our positions; sometimes they share very willingly and I would prefer to keep my treat all to myself but overall, I'm the one who thinks it's a great way to cut calories and stretch the culinary experience. It's also a reminder of dinner with my parents at Chinese restaurants back when I was a kid and we'd always share because that's just what you did and it seems ok to extend the practice to other cuisines and family/group meals. Some people totally get this and others don't. Like my hubby. First date, I did ask if I could try a bit of his meal but even as the words reached his ears I was reaching my fork over the table and plunging it into whatever morsel had attracted my attention. Apparently, it was a mark of gallentry on Dave's part that he didn't spear my hand immobile. Apparently - anyone in his family growing up who committed an act like that would have been engaged in an act of overt hostility. There was JUST enough to go around for everyone at the table, and almost never enough left over for seconds. You took your share and ate it. And didn't waste. I get it...I totally do - but it just didn't occur to me that someone I knew would have been in that position or would still be carrying the repercussions so far into the future. Not that I was ignorant of scarcity in our world....but hadn't really experienced the intensity of another's formative experience as related to food. Not that we didn't go through our own waxing and waning of economic stability in my own home. I just never realized it. I eventually remembered stories of eating spaghetti for days, or hot dogs as Mom & Dad economized when we first moved into our home in Matawan NJ. I tended to remember the halcyon (hahah - I just wanted to use that word) days of stead a couple of times a week, (which haha, I didn't really appreciate especially since they'd make us eat EVERYTHING including the fat and gristle which made me want to puke). I also remembered the days when no matter how many extra mouths were around for dinner, they were always invited to remain. Dad (who did the cooking - thereby assuring our safety and continued living) would have preferred to have advance notice and ALWAYS let us know how annoyed he was when he didn't get it - still was the utmost gracious host in terms of assuring whomever it was that they were welcome to stay for dinner. The story of the fishes and loaves almost always was re-enacted in our home. Not that they would have acknowledged a relationship to that story or its origins but that didn't matter in the long run. There was pretty much always enough. Since I don't want to succumb to the tendency of whitewashing the memories that nostalgia can distort I'm trying to think of a time when they said "no" to someone staying and I'm sure they did but what rooted itself in my being -as part of my formative years was that element of everyone was welcome at the table. I don't need to state the obvious - but I always manage to - it seems to me that this is what currently reveals itself in my own tendencies to insist that everyone is indeed welcome at The Table.
You'll excuse I hope the sort of crass title of today's post. It's mainly the thought I had earlier about the fact I had dribbled the day away - unable to take advantage of a HUGE chunk of uncommitted time to sit and write. I guess it's true. I am not a writer. I am not passionate about or committed to it. I am unable or unwilling to sit and do what is necessary in the pursuit of this (so-called) gift I have. By fluke or happenstance - actually, I think those are synonyms but I don't want to take the time out to check because if I go to a dictionary site I'll have allowed myself once again to be distracted from my self-appointed task - that of writing - I had ALL day to write, read, relax basically because a) I drove the college kid to her classes today and was not going to drive home and back again to put 140 miles on the 2 week old/new/old car, and I had to take said car to the dealership for some service thanks to the "check engine light" which was off when I picked up the car but showed up again a few days later and I got to sit in their rockin' lounge from 8:30 a.m. until 12:30 p.m. and I had all that time to write. Uh - oh - that is a seriously long run-on sentence but if I stopped to edit, I'd never get it written and then I'd get frustrated or distracted and there would go the attempt again.
No, this isn't a rumination with direct bearing on or because of the farm...it's more like an ongoing thread that runs consistently through my life but does not seem to be turning into anything more than these periodic bursts of written blathering. Which I am good at. I should have looked into a radio or talk show gig early on. Heaven knows if I can do anything it's talk. I have been quiet for short periods of time throughout my life - shoot, I was even SHY back in the day when I would have preferred to DIE rather than speak in front of anyone, never mind strangers but now I do it on a regular basis. Today I even asked a stranger if she would be willing to share a cupcake with me. I was (still am) in Barnes & Noble at the Colonie Mall where I finally ended up after my morning at the service garage and I wanted that little extra sweet treat which as an adult I am now free to get whenever I want just because I want to and so I did, with the straight coffee, small of course to compensate for the extra indulgence and so after taking a little bite, I realized it was too sweet for me to finish on my own and I wasn't going to bring it home with me so I asked this young woman if she'd like to have half of it. I knew she was interested because when she saw me with the cupcake, she asked what it was and I told her it was the pumpkin cupcake. She then looked at the dessert case and decided she'd pass. However, I knew that she would be willing to share because what probably held her back was her own inner voice saying, "no, don't need it, don't spend the money, don't indulge, you don't have enough" or some variation on that theme. To be clear, I'm not advocating all out indulgence of the epcurion bent or the ignoring of Inner Wisdom, but just suggesting that perhaps she held back on the cupcake because it was too much but 1/2 would have been just right so I figured we'd both benefit and indeed, she was surprised but willing to share and so now 2 instead of 1 indulged a little bit but not overly so and can savor the pleasure of the unexpected. And the yummy. I like to share food although it seems others in my life circle would prefer not to. It's not that either of us are fanantical about our positions; sometimes they share very willingly and I would prefer to keep my treat all to myself but overall, I'm the one who thinks it's a great way to cut calories and stretch the culinary experience. It's also a reminder of dinner with my parents at Chinese restaurants back when I was a kid and we'd always share because that's just what you did and it seems ok to extend the practice to other cuisines and family/group meals. Some people totally get this and others don't. Like my hubby. First date, I did ask if I could try a bit of his meal but even as the words reached his ears I was reaching my fork over the table and plunging it into whatever morsel had attracted my attention. Apparently, it was a mark of gallentry on Dave's part that he didn't spear my hand immobile. Apparently - anyone in his family growing up who committed an act like that would have been engaged in an act of overt hostility. There was JUST enough to go around for everyone at the table, and almost never enough left over for seconds. You took your share and ate it. And didn't waste. I get it...I totally do - but it just didn't occur to me that someone I knew would have been in that position or would still be carrying the repercussions so far into the future. Not that I was ignorant of scarcity in our world....but hadn't really experienced the intensity of another's formative experience as related to food. Not that we didn't go through our own waxing and waning of economic stability in my own home. I just never realized it. I eventually remembered stories of eating spaghetti for days, or hot dogs as Mom & Dad economized when we first moved into our home in Matawan NJ. I tended to remember the halcyon (hahah - I just wanted to use that word) days of stead a couple of times a week, (which haha, I didn't really appreciate especially since they'd make us eat EVERYTHING including the fat and gristle which made me want to puke). I also remembered the days when no matter how many extra mouths were around for dinner, they were always invited to remain. Dad (who did the cooking - thereby assuring our safety and continued living) would have preferred to have advance notice and ALWAYS let us know how annoyed he was when he didn't get it - still was the utmost gracious host in terms of assuring whomever it was that they were welcome to stay for dinner. The story of the fishes and loaves almost always was re-enacted in our home. Not that they would have acknowledged a relationship to that story or its origins but that didn't matter in the long run. There was pretty much always enough. Since I don't want to succumb to the tendency of whitewashing the memories that nostalgia can distort I'm trying to think of a time when they said "no" to someone staying and I'm sure they did but what rooted itself in my being -as part of my formative years was that element of everyone was welcome at the table. I don't need to state the obvious - but I always manage to - it seems to me that this is what currently reveals itself in my own tendencies to insist that everyone is indeed welcome at The Table.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Catching up
It's been a few days - no make that weeks since I've written. I've written several wonderful columns in my head. Yep, at least I'm consistent that way. I did re-connect with one of my cousins who used to write...we have the same style...we write well in our heads but fail to actually get the words down on paper - or online. Turns out, I have a friend who is also part of the "I'm a writer who doesn't write" school of writing. From what I gather, it's actually a very popular style...but underground more than a well publicized trend. Anyway - I've had some thought re: the campaign, kids, the farm, all kinds of things and they have now vanished.
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