A little something more in the sky tonight to see...
The last rose blooming in the garden... "Green Ice." This a cutting off one of my grandfather's roses.
The creative process. Time to read and sew and knit. "Work is a vehicle for the creation and expression of our deepest values." Joanna Macy.
And the last fresh tomato of the year.
The silver was a gift from one grandmother, a set that belonged to one of my great-grandmothers. The china from my other grandmother, 3 plates pulled out of a free box. The cup, my choice. Not one I needed; but one I picked up, held and knew had to go home with me. I choose all my pottery that way. I love how all three go together so well.
No shopping today. Just organizing, a bit of knitting...being at home. Today I realized that one of the things I celebrate this time of year is shelter. That when it is windy, cold and wet I have a place to burrow in...
Mittens in progress. I'm going to make these without a thumb gusset. Earlier this week, I was pulling my thumb in with the rest of my fingers to keep them warm in my mittens. It occurred to me that maybe I just needed mittens without a thumb.
A month or so ago, Briar startled a skunk in the garden and Briar and I had a very close call. I've always thought it would be a good idea to have skunk wash supplies on hand as they are in the neighborhood; this motivated me to get prepared!
I did all the piecing by hand so I had some thinking time. Thinking about how our environment is out of balance. About encounters between wild animals and domestic, encounters that humans have with them. About how skunks are most likely to be seen at dawn and dusk as they are nocturnal. We might say something is as different as day and night, or black and white. About skunks as pets or as something we avoid.
The basket makes a good way to store fabric as well...
I gathered up the fabric scraps I had on the table. The blue is a piece I just pulled out of the indigo vat as a test scrap (one dip that I forgot about for about 2 days), it's still working and not too stinky.
I will call this dawn, when it is light enough that the chickens will come out to eat. 7:07 AM
Wind speed: just enough wind to rustle the leaves at ground level. The clouds are moving slowly at the moment:
Temperature: Cold enough that a coat and socks are necessary, but not a scarf or hat. Mittens would have been nice at 10 minutes outside.
(just finished both of these socks)
Visibility: I can see the trees that are a 10 minute walk away from me. Past that there are clouds. How far away are they?
Wet this morning. One sun break. Steady rain since noon.
Thinking about how a weather report uses standard measurements that can be agreed upon.
7:20AM Overcast 50 F. Wind Speed S12 mph. Visibility 10 miles. Dawn 7:22/Dusk 4:27.
Thinking about how a weather forecast is an educated prediction. High wind warning posted for Sunday afternoon into the evening. Winds 25 to 40 mph, with gusts up to 60 mph.
What I learned today: A high wind warning is posted at 40 mph or higher or if the wind lasts for more than an hour or gusts of 58 mph or greater regardless of duration.
We wouldn't know it was almost Thanksgiving around here unless there was a possibility of the power going out or some flooding on Thursday...
And then just as I was about to hit post, I looked out the window and saw...
"Nearby is the country they call life. You will know it by its seriousness. Give me your hand." Rainer Marie Rilke Found here.
During the summer it's easy to ride the bus.
This time of the year it becomes important to think about what is good about it. In the morning there is 20 minutes of walking, 20 minutes to knit, 25 minutes to day dream or visit with neighbors. And then there is the fact that I'd probably be paying about $200 a month in gas and insurance versus $22.50 for a bus pass.
Yesterday I thought about how I might make heart patches, a collection of them, for the next time I need to fix holes on my "mending heart" blanket.
And as I walked down the hill to work, I paused to enjoy what is possible even within city limits...
And just 'cause: "Riding a bus is about eighty times safer than traveling by car." How to Live Well Without Owning a Car by Chris Balish.
Okay, still willing to commute by bus.
11/13/12 6:35 PM, 46 F, Wind calm, Light rain and fog, visibility 5 miles. Flashlight in back pack.
In one way or another it has been an eventful couple of weeks. Watching Obama's acceptance speech I was struck by his comment:
"The role of citizens in our democracy does not end with your vote. America's never been about what can be done for us. It's about what can be done by us together through the hard and frustrating, but necessary work of self-government. That's the principle we were founded on."
A couple of years ago I realized that what I do, how I live, is a quiet form of protest. But what I realized this past week is that it is also a political act. We talk about voting with our dollar at times. Here's some of the ways I did that today:
Line drying the laundry. I've been without a dryer for the last five months. This week my brother called to tell me a friend of his was moving and that he had a dryer I could have. I said no, thanks but no. Crazy? I've decided that I'm not going to replace my dryer. It adds $10 a month to my electricity bill. That's money I'd rather spend on something else. That's electricity that could be used in other ways. Living with less... One of my favorite poets talks about this here. (Wendell Berry)
It was a beautiful day to walk to the farmer's market, to gather most of what I'll eat this week, to talk to farmers and makers and neighbors.
And then 2 hours in the garden, cleaning the chicken coop, tidying vegetable beds, some weeding.
Mending. The hem on a shirt I made, a pair of jeans in the hopes they'd last just a bit longer, turning the knit edging on a coat I made a couple years ago to the inside so it would be a little quieter so that I can wear it more places.
Tomorrow I'll get up and vote again.
That grow in the garden.
It's been a good day to work on the sweater....
Yesterday was mostly dry and had a few beautiful sun breaks, today was dry enough to walk to the farmer's market, but mostly it's rain, rain... November is statistically the month that there is the most rain fall here.
Sunrise 8:00, sunset 5:46.