To Thine Own Self Be True (a recognition of oneself when starting over)

I am Yeopim Indian and Cherokee proud, and Scottish and English and Irish loud, along with Dutch and Black French and possibly more.  And from them all my genetic disposition lays.  In my hair, in my eyes, in my innate knowledge and intuition, in my sense of adventure and in my search for home do I find glimpses of all those that came before.  All my ancestors, all in me.  But I alone have my spirit.  My true self.  That has been here before. And in mindful analysis and decompression of the physical frame as each day becomes a bit more … Continue reading To Thine Own Self Be True (a recognition of oneself when starting over)

Walking at Dawn

The hummingbirds flit around my hair on their way to sweetened nectar their ringing sounds of bells in the early morning air. The dawn shines clear and hopeful brushing pink in its palette spread across the landscape fair. I walk across heavy laden needles and cacti, up steep inclines of bindweed and pine cones, through underbrush that crunches beneath a canopy of sweet Ponderosas I stop to smell.  Their caramel bark dissipating in the midsummer morn.  Sweet clover brushes against me and the birds sing to the heavens in great song as a mother deer brings her new fawn along. I sit atop … Continue reading Walking at Dawn

Ebb and Flow of Farm Life

The ebb and flow, the life and death, the frequency changes and seasons all so crisply clear when one lives on a farm. The ducklings do not fail to bring smiles.  Frolicking in their playpen in a casserole dish turned pond. The farm dog lays under freshly mounded soil by the empty bee hive.  Bumble passed away in the night.  The quiet house without his tick-tick-ticking and the sight of him this morning haunts me still.  Dumping the pile of dead bees in the compost.  A weight pulls my heart.  The dead chicken with suspicious slobber on her feathers.  Death … Continue reading Ebb and Flow of Farm Life

The Inspired Writer/Farmer’s Farmhouse (perhaps it’s time to do the dishes)

This is an excusive look inside a farmhouse whose occupants have been busy with shows promoting their farm, fluffy farm animals, and writing books.  I warn you, these written images are not for the meek. There are cat boogies in my hair the lamb just peed under the chair the dining table is filled with business and such the dishes in the sink are too scary to touch. I have lost the dog, I must confess He’s probably under all this mess Scary spiders have moved into the cobwebs, you see Something under the couch is lurking at me (oh … Continue reading The Inspired Writer/Farmer’s Farmhouse (perhaps it’s time to do the dishes)