I love this photo of Cody recently because it shows how well he (and Keil Bay) blend into the winter landscape on November Hill. The oak leaves this magnificent tree holds onto each year are a definite red bay and chestnut color. I also love how the oak is almost growing out of Cody. He offers strength to me since Keil Bay passed away. He reminds me that we are all securely anchored here on November Hill. In this current political climate, in personal family matters, we are grounded, we are anchored, we will stand our ground.
Our weather went from very cold to very warm and now back to more normal NC winter cold. This week looks chillier and rainy so I’m glad a load of shavings will arrive today to top off the stalls for some cozy barn time for the herd.
I also have to say that our old farm truck Bob has moved on. The repair costs were too much to put into such an old truck, but a mechanic bought Bob and will do the repairs himself, so Bob will keep on trucking, pun intended! We’re not sure what we want to do in terms of replacing him at the moment. Gas or electric? For now we’re able to have our hay and supplies delivered without any trouble, so for the first time in many years we are a two-vehicle family again.
I hope everyone reading here is calling your Congress people daily. If you need scripts and notices of the most important issues of the day, Jessica Craven’s CHOP WOOD, CARRY WATER is a very highly respected newsletter that will make resisting easy. And we all need to resist right now.
This weekend I had wonderful writing group Zoom time and hopped back into my writing routine. We started this monthly Zoom time during trumpkin’s first administration and we are still here for this one. If you’re a creative person, keep going with your creative work. We bring energy to the world when we write, paint, sing, dance, sculpt, etc.
The farm is still in winter dormancy. We pruned our beloved fig tree yesterday, removing several of its trunks that had encroached on the fencing and in most cases also had some damage from age. It was hard to think of cutting it back, but once we started we realized how much healthier it will be without the dead wood, without the damaged parts. May I note here that this too is a metaphor. Get rid of what does not work to make space for new and beautiful and productive growth.
On the first day of spring in the Celtic tradition (Imbolc) I was gathering fallen branches and creating new berms, adding to existing brush piles, and checking bees and various other things on the farm. My daughter had alerted me that Keil Bay’s burial mound had composted down quite a lot, exactly as it is meant to do, and his hip bone was showing. There’s an old blog post about the day I saw Salina’s rib emerge from her burial mound. I noted that Keil’s left hip emerged during a time my own left hip was aching. We remain connected. I also noticed a tiny glimmer of white on another part of his mound. It was his left eye socket. I felt his kind eye on me that day. I can see it still, and I can feel the way it felt to gently cup my hand in a soft stroking of the fur and bone, how he would close his eye and lean his entire head into my palm when I did it.
He remains with us here. Another grounding, protective spirit.
The daffodils are sending up their green shoots. The bees are becoming active again. Spring is on its way.
