beat the heat with some good books

Rainy days are good for reading, but so are these extremely hot, humid summer afternoons we're having. Here are a few books I've got lined up to get me through the blitz of mid-high 90 degree days we have coming up:

Tish Cohen's The Truth About Delilah Blue

Joshilyn Jackson's Backseat Saints

Jon Clinch's Kings of the Earth

Vanessa Woods' Bonobo Handshake

Lauren Baratz-Logsted's The Education of Bet

If I had more time, I'd download cover art and flap copy for you, but now that morning chores are done, my sweat has dried, and I've eaten lunch, it's off to pick up Moomintroll's homeopathic remedy from our vet, to the feed store to stock up on flaked oats, wheat bran, alfalfa pellets, and beet pulp shreds, and somewhere (if I'm lucky the feed store will have these items too) for a new spray nozzle for the hose and a new scrub brush for the water troughs.

If I'm really lucky Angelina will have whipped up some fabulous Greek frozen yogurt flavor for today and I can treat myself. (NOTE: yes! just checked the menu for today and this is the frozen yogurt flavor, made with local blackberries: orange blossom with crushed frozen blackberries!)

Go to the bookstore of your choice and check out the above books - although I have not yet read them, I am confident they will all be good reads.

summer solstice 2010: the honey moon

The longest day of the year is going to be a very hot one here, but even so, we celebrate the turning point, when the days begin to get a bit shorter and we move toward our favorite season, autumn!

The summer solstice is a wonderful day to go out and take conscious note of the bounty that exists for many of us during this time of year. Green grass, many flowers, abundant wildlife. And the vegetable gardens that are offering so much produce.

Pagans referred to the summer solstice as the "honey moon," and since we've just celebrated the apache moon here, it's nice to move into another special lunar time.

I invite you to share any rituals, readings, etc. that have to do with the summer solstice. I may add things throughout the day if I get a chance!

an apache moon night and the black mare's song

When the moon gets to the point that it looks like the moon on our painted pony's left flank, we say it's an Apache Moon... and we have one of those this evening. The moon is a bit over half full, and lying on its back, as Isak Dinesen wrote in her book Out of Africa:

If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is, or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me, or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?

November Hill's evening song today included pulling out spent squash plants to make room for new ones, being joined by two donkeys and a black mare who love to help weed, finding the toad prince in the barn aisle, and listening to Back Porch Music on NPR while the horses ate their dinner tubs.

The best part of tonight's song happened as my husband and I, along with Dickens E. Wickens, cowboy cat, walked the path from barn to back gate. My husband called out good night to the equines, and Salina whinnied in response: wait - something's not right.

So we turned and went back to the barn, realizing that Rafer Johnson had not been turned out with the herd. He was standing by the gate to the front field, and Salina was letting us know we needed to come let him out.

The black mare knows the song of being a mother, and we have learned to listen when she sings.

finding treasures at the local farmers' market

Last week at the farmer's market one of my favorite local growers had these allium in a glass jar at the center of his vegetable display, and when I inquired if he was selling them he gave the entire bunch to me for $4.00, telling me to enjoy them in a vase and then hang them upside down to dry and I could savor them for months to come.

They were gorgeous last week, but this week began to open up even more, looking even more magical and whimsical than they did originally.

Yesterday I had $15.00 in cash, so that's how much I took to the market.

I came home with a bag full of beautiful corn, a bag of rainbow cherry tomatoes (we have many on the vine, but not yet ripe), a head of lovely lettuce, a bunch of green onions (bulbs striped purple, almost too pretty to eat!), three huge home-made cookies, and a large iced latte from the local mobile espresso vendor.

I also came home with joy and laughter from conversation with the people who grew this food.

The grower of my beloved allium told me he will be bringing the actual garlic bulbs in soon and will give me some to save until fall, when I can plant them and have my own flowers next spring.

The lettuce grower handed out free tomatoes and we all laughed when a very talkative girl put hers whole into her mouth and then couldn't speak.

The man who makes bird houses told me about some wrens he'd watched this week.

The corn man made a math joke as he and I both struggled to do a simple calculation.

The espresso vendor and I discussed local history and basic business tactics.

All that and I still came home with .50 cents.

why we do all the work we do

My daughter captured the Big Bay cantering up the hill in our front pasture yesterday, and then came running to show me the photo. I was de-webbing the barn, soaked in sweat, sporadically shrieking when webs came down in my face, but the moment I saw this photo I was reminded why we do the sweaty, never-ending work of keeping horses.

Keil Bay

The Big Bay

The King

The Most Handsome Horse in the Whole World

Big Bazooka

Dream Horse

Whatever name I give him, he is my partner in zen.