Friday, April 22, 2016

a gathering of kindreds


A gathering of kindreds. April 2013 moon cloth.


Kindly green person in my garden.


April 2016 moon cloth.


Dandelions in the garden wondering where their bee sisters are.


Bowl of full moon goodness.


First hibiscus blossom of the year.


Weathered tree stump, a spell the earth has cast.

And lastly, this quote that explains everything about everything...you are the spell the universe has cast. ~Phyllis Curott


Friday, April 15, 2016

promise & pain of spring



I'm crocheting around my phone cord for fun and also to distinguish it from the others (I use the term crocheting loosely). There are too many charging cables at our house -- why does the shape have to be different for every chargeable device, I wonder.


Violet blossoms are especially abundant this year. I picked quite a few the other day, a good thing because we are expecting 14" of snow over the next few days. Here I made a salad with violet blossoms, tender baby kale leaves growing on second year kale plants, arugula and feta cheese drizzled with olive oil and a bit of violet vinegar left from last year. 


Violet flowers on a violet plate, flower-topped paperclips, and a tiny 9-patch I stitched a while back.


Vinegar was made. Violets are good for soothing both named and unnamed grief -- more about violets here and here. It's called fairy vinegar because violets crossed over from the fairy realm. That's what I believe anyway.


I read recently that the season of Spring is both promising and painful. I'd never thought of it as being particularly painful...until this year. Now I get it. Things end, things don't come back, things die.

The bees died. Just like that. One day they were fine and the next day they weren't. I want to blame the wasp takeover of last fall but really can't say for sure. I've cleaned and scraped propolis, wax, and more from most of the 30 frames inside the foundation boxes and am now hoping to attract a swarm. If not, I'll try to purchase a colony from a local bee supplier.

That's where the promise of Spring comes in. And I'm ready. xx

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

egg spell



An egg spell. During the dark moon I wrote my deepest desires on the egg and tomorrow on the new moon I will plant it in the earth. To mark the spot and nurture growth, I will plant pansies over the egg. I realize that everything I desire, I likely already have. But a simple ritual awakens and stirs a part of my being in a way like no other. I call it magic.


Knitting is like growing cloth. I've been growing dishcloths.


And planting a few pansies in a mossy basket.



And planting potatoes in a periwinkle potato bag for the first time.

I love this writing by Wendell Berry, a gift for you today. xx

Sowing the seed, my hand is one with the earth.
Wanting the seed to grow, my mind is one with the light.
Hoeing the crop, my hands are one with the rain.
Having cared for the plants, my mind is one with the air.
Hungry and trusting, my mind is one with the earth.
Eating the fruit, my body is one with the earth.
                                                               ~Wendell Berry