Crafting a Yoga Practice

This Moment

2012-01-20T10:41:00.000-08:00

"This Moment" inspired by Soulemama.

This Moment.

2012-01-06T10:27:00.000-08:00

"This moment" inspired by Soulemama.

Grow & Share

2012-01-02T07:53:00.000-08:00

I want to be a better Farmer. I read "Farm City" by Novella Carpenter this fall and found out that I could call myself an Urban Farmer. I hesitate, because really, I think I'm just a gardener gone wild. "Farmer" has a certain altruistic flair in the whole feeding other people thing, but if you snuck into my garden to pick veggies I would totally go Mr. McGreggor on your ass. We all have stuff to work on,

so this year I resolve to grow and share.

Hopefully, more than just vegetables.

This moment.

2011-12-30T06:43:00.000-08:00

"this moment" inspired by Soulemama.

Today it is Ten.

2011-12-28T19:35:00.000-08:00

My Abuela Irma once told me that a Marriage doesn't start until 30 years after the wedding.

Ten down, twenty to go.

Some things I learned this year...

2011-12-27T21:11:00.000-08:00

This was an intense year of learning, and although I left this space quiet for the second half of it I still kept scribbling notes to myself. Scribbling some how helps me explore my thoughts, beliefs, and whatever else comes along. Here are the "cliff" notes...

Things I learned this year:

It is possible to intellectualize and support and idea with out actually comprehending or believing it. I know, it took me way to long to realize this, but there it is in its glory.

A good dog, despite his tongue.

Getting licked to death is actually a way to die. Just ask our chickens.

People CAN and do change - its inevitable and goes both ways.

Nobody gets out of this alive. We had plenty of opportunity to contemplate death this year, and the

only thing I can say for certain is that it is as integral to our lives as birth.

The best accomplishments are selfless and ephemeral; the ones inspired by and for others so the products slip from your fingers into theirs.

A wedding dress made for a sweet friend!

Our bodies are organic, living, and growing.

Our bodies can heal and reclaim function at any and every age!

and with every permutation!

Death is beautiful, gentle, and happens with a simple exhale (sometimes it is even a kindness).

To be honest I felt this lesson years ago, but its been a reoccurring theme/lesson.

I hope your year has passed you by with amazing encounters, experiences, and of course lessons. I look forward to taking mine into a new year.

The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen!

2011-12-27T08:02:00.000-08:00

Our animals have always gifted me with love, grace, humor, and more often than not a mutual admiration. The not being an occasional rooster, but you know roosters are just being roosters after all. Our animals keep me on task and stabilize my day adding the benefit of continuity and connection to so much in this world from which I am separated. Living in the wilderness is dreamy, but out of the question so I live a little vicariously through a terriers lively instincts, and the call of a not so wild turkey. Which brings me to the other things that animals pepper my days with; mischief and high dramatics of the life and death variety. As in, "I am going to kill that dog!" or the coop being raided by raccoons.

Bees, being animals, are of course no different and without the least bit of frost, winter has provided a rich dose of drama. In winter, bees form a cluster for warmth, and ideally (if you don't rob them blind) survive off their stored honey. However, our fall honey flow has been and continues to be incredibly abundant. With so many warm and fruitful days my lovely ladies decided to supersede their queen, and the new queen never returned from her mating flight. No Queen, no brood, and winter are a terrible combination.

After a few anxiety filled days of hustling for a new queen, I came to terms with the fact that despite living in FLORIDA I would have to either pilfer fresh brood from a friend for the girls to make a new queen or order one from Hawaii. The conversations were dismal at best. One local beekeeper even lamented on the hardships of winter on a sunny eighty degree day with a lovely flow of maple going strong (please insert the Twilight Zone theme music here - no, not the one with vampires).

As certain as I am of the loveliness of Hawaiian bees, their plumeria scented buzz could not survive the sticky, parasitic wilds of Florida. Not to mention the fact that if my back yard honey originated in Hawaii, I may as well just get it from the grocery store.

Those lumps are future Queens!

As luck would have it a brilliant Beekeeper and friend saved the day! Fresh brood went in, and as hoped, three days later I had lovely queen cells!!! Now, with the help of some global warming I need a warm patch in two weeks for a successful mating flight and one darn good hive of feral bees will survive this treacherous Florida winter!!!

A new garden.

2011-12-26T08:04:00.000-08:00

(a familiar friend enjoying a lack of frost damage this morning in the garden)

This Christmas I received a garden and hope for a new queen.

I also got some great new running shoes but as much as I will enjoy them, they are not quite a garden. The garden is actually a few dozen new plants and planters that all tuck into my existing garden which seems like just an addition. However, in spring, I know those dormant twigs will expand reshaping the space, introducing new movement, rhythms, and color. A completely different garden. I also had a new garden etched into my skin, but that is another story entirely.

As for the Queen? Well, I'll tell you tomorrow!

"Fly" fashion

2011-08-29T12:24:00.000-07:00

Our house has some fishin folks in it, and there is nothing more exotic and exciting to us Florida girls than cold mountain water (um, with trout of course). Last week my girl marched up to the Platt river in her hot pink tutu and matching pole to cast and splash. This Mama couldn't have been more proud as she did her thing while fully geared guys in waders had a good laugh; at themselves I hope. Seriously boys the water wasn't that cold, and everything is better in a tutu.

Coyote.

2011-08-08T09:51:00.000-07:00

When I was a dancer, one of my favorite performances was a piece where I had to transform into a she wolf. My hair was long, red, and flew in every possible direction as our ferocious pack devoured the stage. We loved embodying the alter egos so much there was never a performance with out blood and bruises, and we relished in our wild wolfish delight.

I've never had the pleasure of seeing a wolf in its natural environment, but yesterday, I got to see a coyote. He trotted brazenly across a broad field ready for haying, and his red fur blew around in unison with the golden grass. His ears stood tall and pricked as he moved confidently - head held high.

I'm certain he was a he because his size shocked me, and I'm certain he was young with that proud laissez faire demeanor. He was the center of his world, and for a moment, the center of mine.

It's often the case that when you play a character it becomes an opportunity to learn something about yourself. A ballet, can lead a group of naive young women to their ferociousness. I think the same is true when you interact with nature. Once in a while on a prairie walk I find myself in the company of a bison heard, and somehow their reminder of my meekness is completely comforting. In contrast, the coyote opened me to the part of my self that is alert and eager to move swiftly with sure steps.

I wanted to run with him.

{This moment}

2011-08-05T08:29:00.000-07:00

(inspired by Soulemama)

Working with the girls.

2011-08-04T07:52:00.000-07:00

When a cat curls up on you and purrs its pretty mesmerizing. Its like the cat gives a stern "Be still," and I obey resulting in total relaxation. The dogs are more akin to my personality jumping around like fools (all of us), but the cat in his catty way makes me work on his terms. Bees are like that too.

Every time I work with my girls I bring a camera because I really want to show you whats going on in there. Its fascinating, beautiful, and mesmerizing in a way that would make my cat feel like less of a feline. First I check in with the guards at the entrance and give them some sugar syrup for safe passage. This close is where the hum consumes me and instead of receiving the command of "be still" I just am. Not my body of course, but my mind. There is work to be done. I spray a bit of the syrup mixed with lemongrass and chamomile, and completely forget about anything else. My whole body experiences a clarity as the hive hums and swarms around me. Surprisingly, sticking my hands into 20,000 stinging insects totally relaxes me, and the camera sits completely forgotten.

Merchild.

2011-08-03T13:23:00.000-07:00

Its stinkin hot here. Maybe you've heard me mention that on occasion? I realize complaining about the weather is a tad unproductive, but its been over 90 degrees here for the past three months and we have three more to go. Ugh.

After last summer's aquatic triumphs I fully expected to pick right up where we left off, but I should know by now that things are never quite what I expect. Three months ago I joyfully announced at the diner table another season of swimming, and even better - big girl classes with out Mama in the pool. The response was shock and horror; again, not what I expected. The conversation went something like this:

future merchild protested, "Well I don't want lessons in the big pool."

"What are you talking about? I thought you LOVED the big pool? By the end of last summer you were a fantastic swimmer," her less than patient Mama replied.

"I HATE swimming and I'm NOT putting my head underwater!!!"

"IN THIS FAMILY WE SWIM!!!"

Oh yeah, I lost it. Visions of my own Papa danced in my head.

In my defense, having a child who can't swim in Florida is terrifying. There is water everywhere. Along with the necessity, of course, comes a little ego as well. Oh yes, in this family we swim, sail, surf, and snorkel. My sister and I would stay in the ocean so long on a few occasions we tucked a granola bar into the hip of our bikinis so we wouldn't have to bother coming into shore for food. I'm shocked we didn't just form blowholes, and here I was with a kid who made me wait four years to stick her face in the water - baths and showers included.

"No take backs," would have been the next thing out of my mouth,

but thankfully her Papa saved the day. He comes from the mountains so he knew how she felt. He also knew the remedy. Little by little he convinced her to get back in, blow bubbles, and gave her the space to find bravery when I couldn't. Little by little she figured it out in her methodical, sensible way.

Last week she tapped my shoulder and asked if I would like to see a flip. Three weeks ago she refused to even jump into Papa's arms from the side of the pool, and with out even a pause to think she spun herself through the air with barely a splash into the deep water.

It is a tremendous relief to know my girl is mostly safe in the water, and its equally sweet that she completely loves it. My child is a Merchild, just like her Mama.

"Practice and all is coming."

2011-08-02T07:15:00.000-07:00

I haven't been in this practice of writing lately. The usual excuses persist:

"I just need to complete this project."

"Things are really stressful right now."

"I'm tired."

Avoiding whats good for us seems to be inherent in being human sometimes. I wish I knew why. My yoga practice has been a part of me so many years that shoulder stand feels more like breakfast or a shower - unquestionably necessary. However this writing thing suffers all the difficulties of newbie practice:

"I don't know what to do."

"I'm not going to do it well."

"It hurts."

OK, well it doesn't actually hurt like the Ashtanga practiced of my twenties and early thirties, but I wouldn't say a writing practice is pain free. Much like yoga once you get moving around it feels great, and after a few weeks of not practicing I feel a little foggy.

The abundance this summer has offered up in these parts has included huge doses of loss, change, and begs some reinvention. I stand on my mat and move around to check in with my body. See how things are going. I'm going to try to do the same here with my heart.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-07-13T10:22:00.000-07:00

a rare midsummer bloom (roses prefer fall and spring down here and so do I),

honey and a new premise for "girls gone wild,"

pokeberries,

lots and lots of pokeberries,

and plenty of disarray.

Rain started to fall with great regularity last week and in no time the space that will resume being my garden in a couple of months has gone rogue. This is my incredibly steamy version of winter. I stay inside, go on about the humidity, and I don't really do much in the garden. My chickens even take a little laying break.

There is just to much sunlight!

Bearding Ladies

2011-07-11T11:31:00.000-07:00

Our bees are little insect geniuses. Bold statement? Well, yes, but totally true. They are curious, diligent, and incredibly responsive to environmental changes. When patterns need to shift in a hive of 40 thousand or so they can respond in record time. Imagine how hard it would be to get 40 thousand people to even agree to an environmental issue, much less respond to its needs.

Its not a command from their queen either. She is busy laying a thousand or so eggs a day. Bee instincts are for the survival of the hive, which really amounts to, "do it for the kids." Again, could we be so collectively proactive - even for our children? The bees are, and its amazing to watch.

June's sweltering heat compounded by July's apparently nonstop rain inspired some new roofing on the top bar hive. Queen Flora (of course I named her) is a busy girl, and the heat was forcing thousands of her daughters into spending the night outside the hive in order to cool it; making them easy targets for predators and the elements. They needed some Cracker style renovations. Down here its all about big roof lines and ventilation. Some corrugation did the trick, but they were smart enough to make a perfect final adjustment. They made an Attic fan.

After one afternoon of being furious with me for changing their home without permission, they shifted from creating a beard to move air out of the hive to fanning air up toward the new air channels blowing the rising heat out. Those little rascals figured it out in no time, and spun their little bee bottoms in a new direction as if it had been like that all along.

I'm so in love with my smarty pants girls.

Bottoms up ladies!

The realm of possibility opened... even further!

2011-07-01T07:26:00.000-07:00

I've written about my dear friend Sonshree and her amazing work before, because her work is important. If the saying "art imitates life" has any merit, than she and her company members at Axis are redefining our preconceptions about life and false ideas around limitations. Oh, and they are now doing that on national television with millions of viewers.

This work is powerful, beautiful, and most importantly symmetrical. There is no delicate princess on a pedestal, no weird obsessive relationship (this is a major theme in dance it seems - celebrated by cinema), and definitely no exploitation of the audiences sympathies.

There is nothing but equanimity on that stage.

Equanimity baby!!!

It is my sincere hope that, in this case, life can begin to imitate art.

Hey there pretty boy!

2011-06-29T05:58:00.000-07:00

My "Pretty Boy."

I have this way of calling our male animals (humans not included) in a way that makes my husband feel as if he's heard nails on a chalkboard. Its a loud, sappy, drawn out,

"Oh pretty boy!

Hey there pretty boy!"

I include all of the adoration and exuberance I can muster, and although it sounds atrocious, its definitely fun. To my credit, they all respond emphatically by purring, tail waging, and now I can add gobbling.

Pilgrim, one of the few remaining survivors of spring raccoons, is officially a teenager who LOVES being called "pretty boy." His slightly clipped wing tips drop and rhythmically tap the ground, then tail feathers spike up in a full display. Once hes as puffed up as a teenybopper tom can get, he gurgles out a sweet little gobble that will soon be a bit thunderous and intimidating. Turkey cuteness is not a lasting thing, and as Pilgrim grows he will become more aggressive and fierce.

However, right now he is darling, and definitely my "pretty boy!"

Oh dear, I think he's checking out Willa. She will put him in his place.

{this moment}

2011-06-24T06:00:00.000-07:00

inspired by soulemama

Putting up more tomatoes.

2011-06-21T09:24:00.000-07:00

It is still 100 degrees here with no rain in sight, and the tomatoes are done until fall. So, into the dehydrator went the last batch from the garden and we will be joyfully snacking on them for a wee bit longer. What's coming out of your garden right now?

Papa pants.

2011-06-20T22:22:00.000-07:00

pattern :: Burdastyle men's trousers

Father's day was both relaxing and triumphant with a gift I was so pleased to give.

Unspeakable things...

2011-06-17T08:49:00.000-07:00

Its been a little on the hot side around here, and its making me regret the luxury of planting tomatoes in February. Everything has a price, and this week a stern collection has come about.

Now, in all honesty, a car temp reading hovering at 100 is not all that uncommon down here if the car has been in a sunny parking lot; but this was at home, under a live oak, with no pavement, at 6pm.

I know, unspeakable.

I will have to begin gardening at midnight, I'm in a shoulder stand daily (it actually helps), and my usually outdoorsy girl and I are floating around the neighborhood pool and yelling "on belay" in a comfortably air conditioned gym. When its 108 at dinnertime fake rocks are awesome!

Still life.

2011-06-08T13:55:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wish I could make everything pause. Not to be more in the moment, but to bask in the glory of it. Right now my little Strawberry Fairy (ahem, thank you Miss Amanda) is an awfully big girl celebrating her last day of school for the first time. Do you remember how exciting that was? I didn't think about it much, well, ever until this week, but what a right of passage into the hot frenzy of summer.

Today wrapped up a year of great accomplishments and changes for all of those kiddos. When we got to school the space hummed with anticipation, cheers, squeals, and some second graders furiously casting off their knitting projects to take home.

Today, favorite toys could be brought to school, ice cream was served in double scoops, and along with a pizza date (sans mom), my girl got to ride in a burbasaurus. A "big bad burbasaurus" to be exact (think jacked up 70's suburban). She is still singing about it. Ahem, thank you Lex.

So here we are in a moment full of waiting to see what's next. I want to savor every bit of this satisfaction for her. She will have many more days like this, but this day is her first last day of school, and I am reveling in her glory.

Grateful.

2011-06-07T09:19:00.000-07:00

I am grateful for so many things in my life, and today I am especially grateful for:

A date set to finally meet my sweet new niece Netta.

---

The pleasure of watching our cat take his morning constitution down the block and back while I sit on the porch with my coffee.

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A note of "Wish I could be there" from a far away friend.

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All of the fledgelings exploring flight in our garden. This years baby woodpeckers win for most hilarious.

---

June rain. Rain to ease the heat and tension left over from a bone dry May. Yeah, I am especially grateful for rain

{This moment}

2011-06-03T06:12:00.000-07:00

{This moment} inspired by soulemama

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-06-02T11:20:00.000-07:00

loads of lavender,

sunny rudebekias,

and perennial madness in general.

When it comes to flowers I am inspired by the Victorians. I want one of everything, and lots of it. Also, since I adore serious self seeders, my plants tend to move like water around the garden. The design is much more improvosational, and the plants, seasons, and weather are all involved. I also believe that a weed is only a plant in the wrong place. This makes things more egalitarian for the (beloved by bees) Spanish needles and Spiderworts that make new beds each season, plus with this system even a lovely coreopsis is subject to compost. Actually, we are all subject to compost.

Reverence for your feet.

2011-06-01T13:36:00.000-07:00

I have an incredible fondness for feet. I am always amazed at everything my feet have carried me through and even more amazed as I continually unlock their potential. Your feet (including your ankles) individually have 26 bones, 33 joints, and more than 100 muscles, tendons, and ligaments. Then of course there is an extensive network of blood vessels, nerves and soft tissue – fascia anyone? I happen to think this is miraculous. Our feet are so important that they seem to have received an insane amount evolutionary fine tuning as we developed over the ages (I happen to think evolution is a breathtaking, dare I say, divine miracle – but that is another barrel of monkeys).

As a yoga teacher I see all kinds of funky feet; different shapes, and sizes,

and I’m here to speak their gospel.

Here is the first thing you should know:

Your feet are fine!

They are not deformed. I wish I had a dime for every student that told me they had foot problems because of their malformed feet. Deformities are extremely rare, and I promise your feet are perfect. You just haven’t been all that nice to them.

The second thing you should know:

Shoes are of the devil (since I’m in a fever I may as well go with it), and really expensive fancy shoes are pure evil. This explains why I want them so badly, and why my entire body hurts after wearing them. I honestly don’t think much of expensive “corrective” shoes either; luckily they are less tempting. They work with the idea that your feet are wrong, and after millennia after millennia of evolution these geniuses fixed them. This still works if you are not into evolution with the argument that god made them so they are perfect. I love it when different arguments have the same outcome.

So what to do?

I am not giving into the five-finger shoes. No way! I’m way to vain for that, and mucking about barefoot in Florida is just asking for a bad sting, bite, or bur. I do have minimal trainers for running, but more importantly I include my feet generously in my yoga practice. Yes, feet LOVE yoga. They get so stinkin excited they can barely stand it. My arches pop up, my toes relax and get stretched, my ankles unwind, and my feet even inform the rest of my body in a pose.

Then there is the sunshine and magic that is a tennis ball. Have you ever rolled one around on the bottom of your foot? Definitely give it a try. I like to start right at the front of my heel, roll up along the inside edge of the arch, center it at the top edge of the arch underneath the toes, and then come back around the outside edge of the arch back to the heel. If you find a patch that feels horrible then spend some time there – breathing. Repeat often.

This is one of those things that came into my life via dance. Cramming your feet into pointe shoes is definitely for the love of art, not feet and relief was fleeting at best. I now have great love and respect for my feet, all that they do, and all that they have yet to do. As they open and strengthen more, my reverence for feet certainly strengthens and expands as well.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-05-27T10:05:00.000-07:00

... lovely lilies,

bursts of sunshine,

well laid plans for a fall harvest (calabazas),

my little red chicken happy and scratching,

and a new hive!!!

Work in our garden has been plentiful and treacherous this week with 97 degree days and angry raccoons in the live traps, but gardening like yoga is a daily practice and both are often difficult. Some people even choose to do yoga in crazy hot temperatures, but thats another story completly. We have one more hive and you will hear much more about it soon. If you want to know how many hives we will end up with; for now my answer is, "Just one more."

I would love to see what is happening in your garden!

Tomatoes and apples.

2011-05-26T06:02:00.000-07:00

Our apples are tart and little, but our tomatoes are sweet and HUGE.

I am completely grateful for both of them!!!

We are currently harvesting so much that I am feeling positively fruity, and I am ecstatic about our first little apple harvest - the tomatoes just grow down here so that's less of a novelty. In about five more seconds we will be picking blueberries to add to our fruit mania, and with blueberries comes jam.

Huzzah!!!

Its not easy being a chicken.

2011-05-24T20:01:00.000-07:00

I’m writing this evening with a chicken looking over my shoulder. She is delicately perched on the edge of a box by my sewing machine. She is badly injured. Oh how sweet, she just fell asleep. She’s been in and out of naps for the past few days, which is why I know she is not ready to go back into the coop. It is good for her to rest, and adorable since she snores a bit.

This is no ordinary chicken; she is my little Red chicken. Maybe you have heard about her before? She has survived her years extraordinarily; with episodes that include a hawk carrying her off and a well tossed stone. She can play dead better than any possum, and has fooled me on several stressful occasions with her feet sticking straight up. Life is not so easy for a chicken you know.

Red chicken (yes, that’s her name) has several puncture wounds around her throat and was partially scalped. We found her still as can be in some bushes, and I felt hopeful that my lucky, resourceful little Red chicken would survive what most of our other chickens had not. A raccoon wiped out the flock this week. A smart, determined and apparently constantly hungry raccoon that hunts in daylight and night. I have been fighting her tooth and nail to keep my girls safe, but despite a coop with heavy gauge mesh and concrete footers she found her way to all of them except Willa and Red.

“The raccoon must die.” I’ve been murmuring all week, and this is troubling since it would be murder – not that she doesn’t have it coming. After picking up pieces of my girls every night (8 in one week, 15 this spring) it seemed to be my only option. First we tried trapping her, but she visited the traps like a buffet figuring her way out and taking advantage of our lack of experience. Then a dear sweet friend, a well-practiced yogini in fact, said “Its time to get a gun.”

This is just how it goes in the wilds of North Florida, and I suffered with the idea for a couple of days as more chickens died. The raccoon is just doing what raccoons, well very aggressive raccoons do, but I also have to accept my role in this. I’m not exactly naive to the act of taking a life, and if Red had proven to far-gone I would have helped her on her way. I believe that to be a sort of kindness, but hunting something that I intended to dump in a trash bin seemed not quite right. However, as my chickens graciously accept the role of giving food to our family I need to accept my role fully as their caretaker. My girls compulsively roost in their coop each night with that expectation.

As soon as my response became determined and unwavering, everything fell into place. I headed first to the feed store with clarity about what had to be done, and when I asked about the most effective way to solve my problem (granted, murder was still on the table and a weapon purchase my intent) the answer presented itself beautifully. I was speaking to an experienced trapper who later that very same afternoon set a series of traps, and not only would he catch the raccoon – he would make full use of it.

It seems that all I had to do, was become fully committed to my purpose.

Yeah, there is some yoga learned in that.

A final note: After typing this up I got dinner ready, we ate, watched the sun set from our front porch, and my little bug went to sleep. Red is snoozing on her air conditioned roost, and four raccoons have filled the traps in our back yard.

Bee glamorous.

2011-05-13T12:33:00.000-07:00

We have been working like busy bee around here turning our front yard into a well mulched pollinator garden, and its been great fun recognizing some of the friendly natives around these parts. On one lavender plant we had five different species of bees - FIVE. This was as it was going in the ground to boot. Photographing them is really challenging for me and it takes everything I've learned from both Buddha and Yoda, but here is a lovely little female sweat bee taking a rest on the screen porch. These little ones move fast as light on the flowers, and I will never tire of their exquisite color. She's so disco fabulous I can barely stand it. I also love how she met the camera head on.

Admiring her reflection in my lens perhaps?

I would, if I were her.

Mulch to do...

2011-05-11T05:21:00.000-07:00

Queen of mulch mountain.

Its in the upper 90's here and the sun will burn you in seconds, so what did this mama want more than anything for mother's day? 8 yards of mulch and torn up grass in the front yard. Well, to be more specific, another garden. Poor Papa. This is playing out like the mother's day a few years ago when I coyly asked for a wee little chicken coop that is actually more of a chicken compound. Again, poor papa. So I'll be a little scarce on this blog of mine this week so all of that lovely mulch and all of those pollinator friendly plants can replace that grass. Phew!

{this moment}

2011-05-06T06:31:00.000-07:00

inspired by soulemama

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-05-04T05:24:00.000-07:00

... darling daylilies,

magnificent magnolias,

lavender and a soon to be garden bed (happy mother's day to me),

heady Hortensia,

sweet muscadines about to bloom,

and an abundance of apples.

What's in your garden this morning?

hive of love...

2011-05-03T08:27:00.000-07:00

"To make a prairie it takes one clover and a bee, one clover and one bee and reverie."

-Emily Dickenson

Our first package of bees finally arrived, and into the hive they went. After months of studying and even a bit of practice with a friend the anxiety I felt for their happiness did not wane. Will they like this little hive? Oh I hope so. Then this morning barely 48 hours later I realized they had fully drawn comb and were sending out foragers. I'm beginning to relax a little. Just a little. These ladies are lovely Italians, and learning about them has inspired something in me that hasn't stirred in a while. A new project that needs to buzz around my brain a bit longer, but for now I'm calling it "Hive of Love."

Say it with me, "Hive of Love."

It is practically a mantra.

We have more girls on they way, and another hive to site; so this wonderful suffering will continue.

Lucky, lucky, lucky me!

The hive, after hours of reading, hemming and hawing over location, ended up in our chicken yard. The temperature here is good, it has eastern exposure and the with matrix of our backyard fencing (all for the needs of a garden, dogs and chickens living in harmony as well as living space for grapes and berries), this spot is the most protected from curious little people. The chickens were extremely curious, but when the bees went in they moved away with great respect. Those chickens are smarter than I thought.

With two left thumbs and an organic cane sugar marshmallow, we "throned" the queen.

Yes, she finally got stung. No, she didn't really care.

Bees "fanning" to alert their sisters of a new home!

May Day

2011-05-02T10:27:00.000-07:00

I hope you had a lovely May Day. We certainly did. May down here in our swampy climate means temperatures are relentless, and there is no going back until October. This weather was made for Diet Coke and Cheetos. I know horrible right? But I'd like to ask you northerners exactly how many pies, cakes and brownies you ate to survive winter? I read your blogs - I have an idea. So toes out the car window with a cool soda it is. This weekend we celebrated the coming of another hellacious season with a butterfly festival, and Mayfaire. The ribbons some how make summer seem like a great idea.

For the moment anyway.

{this moment}

2011-04-29T06:36:00.000-07:00

inspired by soulemama

Great thanks to my favorite Farmer for this lovely photo of my sweet nephew!

Meet Nevada Smith...

2011-04-27T07:19:00.000-07:00

Folks, this is Nevada,

Nevada, these are the folks.

Or something like that. This little Caterpillar is definitely an upwardly mobile mover and shaker so I thought you may want to meet him. In fact he's such a tough little dude I am certain he is bound for greatness. We met Nevada at the grocery store as a wee little thing with hardly any stripes so my girl brought him home with some extra dill. This mama was crazy busy so the best protection she could give Nevada at the time was a stern, "Don't kill it!!!" I know, but I was getting last minute things in place for the workshop. Shortly after, on Friday, he disappeared. Exhausted from so much lovin;

I thought it was his end.

Then Monday came. I was cleaning up a pile of blankets that had been a fort and this little butterfly to be came crawling across the living room! He seemed half dead and ready to quit, but I wouldn't quit him. No way. On to some fresh dill and way high up so little hands could not get to him, Nevada has made a full recovery and fattened up to boot. Sometimes I think I see him squinting as he gazes over the landscape. I think I'll keep this little cowboy safely until he pupates and is ready to fly off in the sunset.

The spaces in between...

2011-04-26T08:24:00.000-07:00

I remember reading from some fairytale or another about transitional spaces being populated with fairies and rascally gnomes; hiding in the corners of doorways and running amuck at sunset. Watching my girl move through these spaces, or rather pause and stare into what I perceive as nothing, I beginning to see that myth blur into reality. "point A" and "point B" are only small dots on her agenda and all of that "in between" space consumes her. Fairies for certain!!! Despite my adult hemming and hawing about how we have to "get going", her world meanders on a path with out a single straight line.

As a yoga teacher this is something I desperately want to teach my students, because movement is nonexistent with out the spaces in between and going from pose to pose with out love and respect for the transitions can irritate rascally gnomes and fairies. After all, triangle pose never hurt anyone, but moving into triangle pose with out care has probably wrecked a hamstring or two. So today as I prepare to teach what will be my last ashtanga class for a while (this is a big deal to me since teaching this practice has permeated the past ten years of my life), I will be honoring all of the spaces in between and all that they have taught me.

Sometimes everything goes right!

2011-04-25T06:52:00.000-07:00

This weekend's workshop felt like a complete success.

I'm my harshest critic, so even after a class, I like to take a moment to review if my teaching goals were accomplished, and how I could have done better.

This time when I asked myself what could have been different / better after Saturday's Crafting a Yoga Practice retreat I got to smile and say to myself, "nothing." The whole idea was to get participants comfortable and secure with their own creativity. They always have the option to get help, and I had some stencil making supplies in case some one needed to work things out to scale on paper, but every last one of them sketched right onto the fabric with wild abandon, and creatively used the stitches we worked on earlier in the day - some even went as far as making up stitches! My favorite part was watching how much each participants individual process and product expressed so much individual personality.

Danger was a theme in our yoga practice. One of my teaching methods is to play around with movement that seems absurd then when we get to our goal it is less intimidating. Yes, trickery, shenanigans, and high dramatics are effective teaching methods - I swear!

I would do one of these workshops every month if it weren't for the epic preparations.

Some oh so sweet practice stitches.

Process, process, process...

...then product!

Getting down to what's important. Stitching in a hammock after a good swim and lunch. Telling jokes and stories, trusting, loving, and sharing under a magnificent canopy of oaks!

"A Farm for the Future"

2011-04-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

"A Farm for the Future"

by Rebecca Hosking

I watched this last night while dyeing fabric and sketching for this weekend. Its only available online in its full format until April 29 so set aside some time. Its amazing. With all of the eat local, peak oil documentaries out there this is my favorite so far. Its from the Farmer's perspective, and it looks at how even a small family farm is completely oil dependant, and entrenched in in an unsustainable cycle. This is her learning journey to understand the needs of the modern farm and the modern consumer, and how those needs can be met using nature's model. She doesn't glamorize farm work, and she doesn't neglect the issue of feeding our current and growing population.

Rebecca Hosking is a brilliant "of the mat" yogi!

{This moment}

2011-04-15T11:19:00.000-07:00

(inspired by soulemama)

Ahem, and now we have Turkeys.

2011-04-14T09:29:00.000-07:00

We have recently acquired some itty bitty fluffy turkeys and one chick. Seriously, what next? This was completely unplanned & accidental and I had no intention of brooding anything, this year but things just happen. So the story is loaded with all of your typical poultry drama: broody hen eats babies, one miraculously survives, turkeys are delicious, so she got three big brothers. Sheesh! Now before you get your knickers hot and bothered about the "delicious" bit, yes I have studied the sutras, I practice ahimsa, we may just have differing opinions on it. Different is good.

So here I am with another batch of Turkeys, and despite the circumstances that necessitated their arrival, I am sooooo excited. Turkeys are great in the garden. I adore their curiosity, and appreciate their athleticism. They are resourceful, tough, and infinitely proud. Turkeys are also completely quiet - until they are not. As gobblers they gobble constantly, but by then these guys will be strutting about a friends farm on Tuscawilla.

I have to admit, eagles are lovely and majestic, but I'm in agreement with Mr. Franklin. Turkeys would have made a more honest national bird.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-04-13T05:51:00.000-07:00

...a pocket full of tea,

sweet yellow pear tomatoes,

squash blossoms,

spiderworts in the fallow part of the garden,

and a good reason to let a bit of your garden go fallow.

She keeps bees.

2011-04-12T09:35:00.000-07:00

I have this incredibly lovely friend who among all the amazing things she does (this list includes yogini extraordinaire), she keeps bees. And among all of the things she teaches me (including how to be a better Mama), she is teaching me about bees as well.

Here she is with my sweet little bee.

I know, you are super jealous. You must run out and make a friend like this immediately. If you are lucky enough to already have one, give her/him and extra hug.

This weekend we had the chance to help her hive three packages of bees. The experience was

unbee-liveably beautiful, and I was bee-side myself to see my girl completely happy and calm in the midst of a swirl of bees.

Bug in a homemade beekeeping suit. She chose a black ribbon for the waist because it made her look like a "hip hop girl." WTF???? Sorry for the language, but I had a spring green in mind,
and I have no idea where she got the hip hop idea.

I did a ruffled collar inspired by Fannie from "Bright Star." Bees always walk up, so it was meant for them to not get wedged into a crevasse.

Us walking up to the hives. Now imagine the beginning of "Sabotage." Musically the whole experience was more Sigur Ros, but I do love those Beastie Boys - Oh, that's where the hip hop business came from. Ugh.

A humming, buzzing, box of bees!

La Reina!!!

Shaken em in.

Thoroughly, and gently brushing them into the hive.

Great thanks to a great friend!!!!!

I also got to participate in a great beekeeping demo with Noah and Charlie (from the downtown farmer's market for you locals) out at the Swallowtail Farm Festival. We got to go into an established top bar hive that was transitioning to a new queen, and check out all of the brood. Wow!

Gratitude for the farm.

2011-04-11T11:51:00.000-07:00

Our weekend was so action packed it is going to take me all week to dish out the details,

but first things first -

I have to give great amounts of love and thanks to the folks out a Swallowtail Farm.

The weekend festival was fantastic. Ya know, like Woodstock except clean, less crowded, and kid friendly. There were absolutely no naked people; just an occasional moon post slip and slide - good times! I'm especially grateful for all the local business who donated to the raffle. The guests were thrilled, and it was awesome to see so much generosity for the love of a farm, its poet farmer (read his newsletters folks), and crew of divine souls who have a sincere passion for the earth and its abundance. Plus this is Florida; so you've got to show some love and respect for every farmer willing to tough it out in the field with a heat index that regularly jumps up past 110 degrees, all to provide us with healthy eats!

2nd Annual Swallowtail Farm Spring Festival is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2011-04-08T11:31:00.000-07:00

This event was so much fun last year that as I was planning the studio spring schedule in fall I called Noah to make certain I didn't overlap. There is no missing this event - its just way too fun! Please come for some of our favorite musicians, chefs, and local farmers to share and celebrate on a gorgeous spring day.

The 2nd Annual Spring Festival is a celebration of everything good, green and local. And again, it's powered by the Sun, thanks to Pure Energy Solar and their Tower of Power.
Here's the menu:

TASTE
3 Chefs 4 Courses
Swallowtail's inaugural Farm to Plate Fundraiser Dinner
featuring Chefs Mark Newman of Leonardo's 706, Amanda Bisson of Ti Amo, Mike Riska of The Jones, and the freshest dining experience you'll ever have. Eat out of the garden, in the garden.
Menu to be posted soon. Dinner will be served at 7:30pm
Limited to 50 Plates. $50 per plate. For advance tickets, call Noah at 352-327-1175.

Fine Food from The Jones Eastside, Leonardo's 706, Ivey's Grill, Sisters Cafe, and more.

The Green Drinks/Cinema Verde Bar
Serving Swamphead Brewery's Award-winning local beers.

HEAR:
Concert on the Green
featuring HuDost, Dj A-Train, Patrick Koch, Levek, The Babylonians, Danielle DeCosmo, Wester Joseph, The Eraseables, Susan Perko,The Shambles, Mindrise,Tom Grant & Company, The Hard Luck Society, Elaine Mahon, Tres Pelo, and Warfield.
A beautiful day of Gainesville's sweetest sounds.

TOUCH:
Whole Farm Workshops
Get your hands in the dirt. Participate in the myriad elements of creating a whole farm organism. Plant a permaculture garden, harvest (and eat!) honey from our bees, plant an orchard, plant native trees & shrubs, connect a rainwater irrigation system, and make compost!

Workshop Schedule (tentative - will update daily):
1:00 - Permaculture Garden Design with Oliver Moore and Ryan Brouillard of Abundant Edible Landscapes
2:00 - Bees and Honey with Noah Shitama, Charlie Lybrand and/or Neil Lorenzini
3:00 - Rainwater Irrigation
4:00 - Mulch & Compost
5:00 - Planting Natives
6:00 - Planting Fruit

Facilitated by professionals from Abundant Edible Landscapes, Comet Farm, and of course Swallowtail Farm.

Children's Garden
The kids can stay cool with a slip & slide, bounce house, hayrides, bubbles and hula hoops.

Healing Arts
Sanctuary Yoga presents our 2nd Annual Spring Raffle.
Grand Prize - 1 year Membership to Sanctuary Yoga Studios.
First Prize - Swallowtail Farm Fall 2011 CSA Share.
Other prizes include gift certificates to our finest local restaurants, massage, local art, and more.
Also enjoy chair massages and henna art by local healers and practitioners.

SEE:
Local Farm & Food Expo
Meet your farmers and the local food community:
Abundant Edible Landscapes, Comet Farm, Kumarie's Organic Farm, Sandhill Farm, Swallowtail Farm, Florida Organic Growers, Slow Food, Citizens' Co-op, Grow Gainesville, Soil Enrichment Products, and more.

SMELL:
Pie-Baking Contest
you be the judge, or the baker! hosted by Jasmine Angelini-Knoll.
Contact Jasmine at jasminesamar@gmail.com

This is a Five Senses celebration of our community. Spring is here!

$12 Suggested Donation to benefit Swallowtail Farm
Includes 1 Raffle Ticket
Children are FREE

Raffle Prize list (partial):
Grand Prize: 1 yr Membership to Sanctuary Yoga Studio
First Prize: Swallowtail Farm Fall 2011 CSA Share
Signed 20x24 Photograph by John Moran
Gift Certificates to The Jones, 706, Emiliano's, Satchel's, and more.
Signed Print by Kana Handel
Massage by Alison Demantenon
Massage at Gainesville Wellness Center
Personal Training Session at Gainesville Wellness Center
Dietz Hurricane Lantern from The Mosswood Farm Store
and many more amazing gifts from our community!

Directions:

From G'ville:
N on 441 to 121 (34th st). Rt onto 121. Through Lacrosse to 236.
Lt onto 236. Through 2 4-way stops (239 & 241), almost to I-75 (if you reach it, you gone too far). Rt onto CR 1491. To Stop at Tee. Left at Stop. Follow hard right curve, then down the hill to 276th Ln on the Right.

OR

N on I-75 to Exit 404 (236). Left off of exit ramp (east) onto 236. First left onto 1491. Same as above once on 1491.

27431 CR 1491
Alachua, Florida 32615

Please BRING A REFILLABLE WATER BOTTLE if you can.
Other superb accoutrements: LAWN CHAIRS, SHADE UMBRELLAS, AND PICNIC BLANKETS!

VOLUNTEER OPPORTUNITIES:
Please send a message to Jasmine if you can help us keep the festival flowing smoothly by working in any of these areas!
We welcome ALL volunteers to camp out on the farm on Friday and/or Saturday nights, in order to be there first thing on those mornings to lend your hands!

PREPARATIONS:
On Saturday, April 9th, we will be setting up the music stages as well as the infrastructure for the Farm-to-Plate Dinner. The dinner set up includes tables with table settings (dishes, flatware, flowers) and benches, as well as setting up pantry, sink, and stove for the chefs. This also includes potentially doing some harvesting of veggies that will be used in the dinner. We’d love to have someone(s) coordinate this on Saturday—this would mean communicating with Noah about the vision and directing other volunteers. We need at least 4 people to be coordinators for these areas (1 for stages, 3 for F-t-P dinner set-up).
We’ll also be preparing & hitching up the wagon to do hayrides on Sunday!

THE MORNING OF & DURING the Festival:
These are the areas where we need support—in some areas you can sign up for a designated shift, in other areas we need people to just check in and help as needed throughout the event (runners).

1. PARKING ATTENDANTS: Directing people where to park… we’ll do 2-hour shifts for this: 11-1 pm, 1-3 pm, 3-5 pm, 5-7 pm, and 7-9 pm. We need at least one person on each shift—at least 5 people!

2. GATE: greeting people as they arrive and collecting admission donations ($12 per person suggested, kids 12 and under come in free). 2-hour shifts: 11 am-1 pm, 1-3 pm, 3-5 pm, 5-7 pm, and 7-9 pm. The first shift volunteer(s) will help set-up the tent! We need at least one person on each shift, though we’re happy to accept teams of 2, or overlapping shifts—at least 5 people needed, one on each time slot.

3. INFO/FIRST AID tent: same thing as gate, you will have information about music schedules and the schedules of other festival activities. You will also have first aid supplies and Swallowtail CSA information. 2-hour shifts: 11-1 pm, 1-3 pm, 3-5 pm, 5-7 pm, 7-9 pm. The first shift volunteer(s) will help set-up the tent!

4. RAFFLE TENT: support for Melissa (of Sanctuary Yoga). Selling raffle tickets and talking about the prizes! Shifts: 11—1 pm, 1—3 pm, 3—5 pm, and 5—7 pm. Need at least 4 people.
5. Local Food and Farm EXPO SET-UP: the farms/organizations/groups that have been invited to table are being asked to set-up their tents and materials by 11 am on the day of the Festival. We need at least one person to arrive at the farm by 9 am to coordinate this: we will give you a map of the area and with the planned location of each tent, you will find and help these folks as they arrive—letting them know where to set-up and helping them do it! We need at least one person, but two might be better!

6. FOOD VENDORS—SET-UP and RUNNERS
We’d like 2 or 3 people to check-in with the food vendors throughout the day and make sure they have everything they need. We’d like to schedule this as 3 shifts: 10 am—1 pm, 12 pm—4 4 pm, and 4 pm—8 pm. The first shift will help the vendors set up. We need at least 3 people.

7. KID’S AREA—SET-UP and SUPPORT
If you want to hang out with the kiddos, this is your spot! We have some activities planned, but you’re welcome to contribute other ideas and supplies needed to make it happen! We’d like to schedule 3-hour “check-in” shifts—check in and help as needed!
10 am—1 pm, 1 pm—4 pm, 4 pm—7 pm (or maybe until 8 pm?) First shift helps set up! We need at least 3 people total.

8. FARM-to-PLATE DINNER—RUNNER(S) for Chefs: At least 2 people needed to check-in with the chefs throughout the day as they prepare for the Farm-to-Plate dinner. This includes getting them whatever they need throughout the day—may include harvesting veggies.
Shifts: 9 am-2 pm, 2-7 pm. Need at least 1 person to take each shift and check-in with the chefs throughout your shift.

9. GREEN DRINKS “BAR”—RUNNER
Support for Trish Riley. 3 shifts: 10 am—1 pm, 12 pm—4 pm, 4 pm—8 pm. These are mostly “check-in” type shifts—to help as needed. The first shift will help with set-up. We need at least 3 people.

10. HAY RIDE DRIVER(S): Want to shepherd the kids on a jaunty jaunt around the farm? You’ll need to be comfortable driving the tractor, hitched up to the hay wagon—we’ll give you some training, tips, and practice on Saturday or Sunday. The times for the hayrides can be somewhat flexible—we’d like to do the hayride at least a few times during the day!

Please do not hesitate to message/email Jasmine with questions! jasminesamar@gmail.com

And THANK YOU so much for your help and support in making this festival a good experience for everyone!

My daughter, the fashion designer...

2011-04-07T10:21:00.000-07:00

Last week was pretty dismal and rainy, and cabin fever hit hard with so many friends out of town for spring break. Nobody wants that much time with their mom, not in theory anyway.

So along with watching "Bees; Tales from the Hive" about 20 times we decided a little sewing

(designing actually) was in order.

I'm still working on my little project; a bee suit for bug. Its really strange that there are no children's beekeeping patterns, right? Hopefully, I will be showing it off soon.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-04-06T12:14:00.000-07:00

...every thing coming up rosie,

some treats for the hummers,

some treats for the bees (who are on their way),

the green roof on the coop reawakening with much needed rain,

apples with hints of red,

and finally TOMATOES!!!!!
We've got Cherokee Purples on their way!

To "like" or not to "like"...

2011-04-05T09:21:00.000-07:00

I recently read a news piece on the “fakeness” of facebook and the blogosphere. The writer pointed out that online we seem cleaner, better looking, and happier than we actually are, and there was something to the effect that it was like a sterile gated community.

Well, I gave my community design Prof hell about the gates, and was horrified to have to eventually design so many of them; so this gave me pause. I gave the whole thing some thought, and came to an easy conclusion. I certainly have no intention of posting crappy photos of myself for the world to see, although there are plenty.

Honestly, I appreciate the positive attitude on Face book and the blogs I read. Even when one of my “friends” post some terrible news its in the best interest of the greater good. If Soulemama, or CurvyYoga wrote a bunch about how they hate to pay bills, who would want to read it? We all share in the mundane and day-to-day unpleasantness – that’s just part of the deal. What’s interesting is life’s specialness. I have so much appreciation for the photos and stories of your gorgeous children, pets, and gardens. I definitely want to hear about what motivates and inspires you. I also want to be informed about what’s happening in your/our world, country, community, and by all means post an absolutely fabulous photo of your self! No doubt, I will “like” it!

My favorite glamour shot! A couple days in a jungle looks good on me, no?

{This moment}

2011-04-01T13:25:00.000-07:00

inspired by Soulemama.

this morning in my garden, I found...

2011-03-30T10:27:00.000-07:00

... a girl in the mud,

a big golden rose,

a flower eating terrier,

and a coffee soaked cat!

nine.

2011-03-29T12:11:00.000-07:00

On my ninth birthday I conquered an island.

This is actually true, although a little exaggerated since the crabs and sea urchins didn't mind a bit when I rooted my flag pole into the soft muck beneath the mangroves. This exceptional day was forged in the minds of my sweet cousins, who are slightly older and very sea worthy boys. We had already spent much of that summer in a little boat scooting through the mangroves as explorers, wanderers, and on occasion ruthless pirates. Is it even possible anymore for children that young to be that free?

Oh, I hope so.

On the morning of my birthday, my Uncle woke me up early and announced a day sail to Brazil. I had a suspicion that we wouldn't make it that far (at least not by dinner), but it was definitely worth a try. The sail was brilliant, and the sea was a bit moody; not stormy, but dramatic.

My favorite of its many attitudes.

That afternoon as we came into port, which was actually just my Uncle's dock (as expected Brazil was a bit ambitious), my cousin's cheered with a banner they had constructed with scrap wood, bmx parts, and spray paint. One of them had graciously donated a glorious number nine from the front of his bike. Their effort was so much in unison I don't remember who's nine that was. Fernando's heart is generous to a fault, so it could have been his, but Paco would not miss a single detail and want everything to be perfect, so it could have been his too. I do remember feeling incredibly special, and undeserving of such a sacrifice.

After my Aunt's amazing lasagna and cake I was presented with a homemade flag, and our sunburnt band of exploring, pirate, rascals scrambled into the little boat to find my birthday island before the sun set.

I am so grateful for that day, and even more grateful for its timing. Thirty years later I know that nine is such an important birthday; a time when children begin to recognize that the world expects something of them. Knowing you have family to help you conquer an island is an awfully nice tool as the weight of that realization sets in.

This week a sweet niece of mine turns nine, and I am working on a special adventure for her as well. We are going to need a flag, and a little something from the sea.

Silk, wool, and cotton.

2011-03-28T10:52:00.000-07:00

I am of the opinion that in general, the Japanese have a more, well, refined aesthetic than we do here in America. Now, for those of you in far off lands who have aesthetic pride - lets just save today for Japan.

I spent hours on the internet searching out organic, domestically grown, milled, spun, and woven cotton canvas for the upcoming Crafting a Yoga Practice weekend. It will be hand dyed by yours truly, and after all of that commitment to local, organic, and DIY, I found this wool and silk kimono fabric.

"Oh its so gorgeous," a friend commented. "Where did you find this?"

"Japan," I murmured knowing I was about to get laughed at;

she knew how much trouble I went through for the cotton.

"You know, you're supposed to try and MAKE money," she chided.

I really didn't have a response for that, but take a moment to peruse through these beauties. You will totally agree the insanity was worth it!

Some exquisitely woven wool.

A mountainous shibori landscape on silk.

The textured silk is actually lotuses swirling in a pond. AAAGGGHHHH who stitched this up to dye?
You are my super hero.

Some counterpane printed wool.

More silk lotuses. This time graphic and vibrant.

Oh, and a wee bit of block printed, vegetable dyed cotton from Andhar Prahdesh. I went to India with a backpack and a yoga mat. I came back needing porters (embarrassing).

All of the samples! Oh what woven glory!!!!!

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-03-25T07:44:00.000-07:00

...a ginko tree finally realizing it is spring,

speckley trout back lettuce (yes, I buy seeds based on the name only),

robust tomatoes getting staked today,

baby basil,

y la Reina de las Gallinas in her morning glory.

learning about love...

2011-03-22T08:11:00.000-07:00

My girl is a love bug. She is also a bug lover, and in her loving and caring for these little six legged souls she has become a highly effective bug killer. She literally loves them to death.

Being loved, apparently, is a way way to die.

Who knew?

It was a "super" weekend.

2011-03-21T11:58:00.000-07:00

S is for super!

A couple weeks ago (as our daughters were melting down) I leveled with a good friend, "If things are this rough on the new moon, the full moon is really going to suck.

I am a mama, a gardener, a beach bum, a yogi, a teacher, and I have animals. Lunar rhythms do not go unnoticed in my life. They are apparent, informative, and undeniably predictable - for the most part. I weed on new and waning moons, and I plant when the moon is full or waxing. I'll start seeds on either, but I know if they go in while the moon is waning, it will be a wee bit longer for them to come up. My yoga practice on new and full moons is restorative. On a new moon it is exactly what I want, and on a full moon it is exactly what I need. As for my girl and the animals, lunatics! All of them are restless and noisy on a full moon night.

Once I found out this past moon was "super", I figured things would get worse; so they did. Teeth didn't get brushed properly, play dates were cancelled, communication floundered, and those rotten raccoons returned. The moon was getting blamed for high dramatics in our household and major tragedies for others around the globe.

Then it finally peaked, and on that day everything went smoothly, effortlessly, and dare I say it was a pretty harmonious day. Actually, the whole weekend buzzed with the busyness of spring, but with a lovely ease.

Yes, I think that moon was in fact, "super."

{This moment}

2011-03-18T07:15:00.000-07:00

inspired by soulemama

some good advice...

2011-03-17T13:31:00.000-07:00

I was just gently reminded by a sweet friend of a different possibility for action. She recommended that instead of jumping in and whipping through tasks to accomplish a goal, consider allowing space and time to make certain I actually have the energy to accomplish it.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-03-16T06:14:00.000-07:00

...organized eggs (there is a chicken after my own heart),

tomatoes getting bigger,

little landscapes (speaking of which, I am so ready to jump on the terrarium bandwagon),

SQUASH,

bigger apples (these will be ready in June),

and a rosy topped coop!

I would love to see what is coming up in you're garden!

Quiet

2011-03-15T09:41:00.000-07:00

When we first saw our house, after looking at so many, everything about it seemed promising.

It needed some help here and there, but it was downtown, built well, and when I walked out the back door onto a half-acre of grass (read blank slate) I gripped my husband's arm and said,

"This is my house. Get me THIS house."

The realtor smiled. I had blown any potential bargaining possibilities,

and less than a week later we were under contract.

We already lived about ten blocks over so the neighborhood was not new. However, it didn't take long for us to regret our decision, and it took even less time for the economy to collapse, leaving moving out of the question. You see, there was just this one house on our street that had a history (20 plus years) of really ruining it for everyone.

To put it simply, there were plenty of drugs, and epic amounts of screaming. I could have gotten past the public drunkenness, the naked public drunkenness, the passed out & wasted on my front doorstep, and the endlessly barking dogs, but night and day they were yelling, screaming, fighting - even in bad weather. Going to bed to the sound of people fighting, sitting awake all night because it continued, and wondering in awe as the sun rose and they were still fighting, was nothing unusual on our street. The Police came and went with no effect, and there was no hope for change, until last week. After ruining it for everyone for over two decades, they were gone. For good.

We each took a silent moment to stare at the barricaded, dilapidated, EMPTY house. Then, a bit of a miracle happened. This weekend people were sitting on their front porches. We can finally breathe, and get to know each other. Instead of planning on a move, our family made plans to redo the front porch so it would feel more welcoming.

The idea that silence is golden has new meaning for us, and in the midst of this quiet hum we can finally participate in community.

{This moment}

2011-03-11T05:39:00.000-08:00

inspired by soulemama

Where for art thou Mojo?

2011-03-10T10:41:00.000-08:00

Hey Mojo, what gives? Where are you? Was it something I said? Oh, right, blame the pollen. Well, I don't know how sewing a new outfit helps. OK, maybe I get it a bit. Yeah, that indigo dyed hemp is awesome, and I've been aching to stitch up some of that African wax print. Why has it taken so long anyway? While we are at it, maybe something should be done about that ironing board cover too.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-03-09T05:30:00.000-08:00

...palm fronds beckoning me out,

succulent sedums,

a fence full of flowers,

my egg suckin dawg,

food on its way (blackberries!!!!),

more food on its way (apples!!!),

Smokey Joe finding acceptance,

even more food(pears)!!!

Holy Mackerel!!!

2011-03-08T05:32:00.000-08:00

On our holiday by the sea, my girl spent plenty of time holding court with seagulls. Not to mention Pelicans, Herons, Ducks, and one really zippy hawk.

Many of those birds were never photographed, because this weekend I traded holding the camera for embracing a sweet little nephew.

You can see why - he is completely delicious!

The other main attraction was fishing with Abuelo.

Abuelo's are amazing. Mama's fish too, but Mamas tie on soft lures with no hooks. A girl can get a nibble that way, but not much satisfaction. Abuelos, on the other hand, are Kings of the sea; part naturalist, part conqueror, part hurricane. I hope my girl embodies all three as she transforms into his little salty accomplice.

Abuelos let their grand daughters use big hooks, and live crabs for goodness sake! Then, together, they reel in big spiky dangerous fish. OK, maybe not completely dangerous, but salt-water fish are definitely spiky. My girl was thrilled then, with sweet love and affection, she sent them back to the sea. She knows at the end of the day they want their Mamas too.

I love that my girl can sit and stare at the water for hours. Its one of my favorite pastimes.

Spring Break!

2011-02-28T09:00:00.000-08:00

I know that today's calendar date is still hanging on to February,

but it was 87 degrees here yesterday and we are heading to the beach.

For those of you in the great north, our weather is sunny and warm.

The water is light crystal blue, and bug has already successfully campaigned for a new pair of goggles. The rest of her snorkel gear is packed. As are sundresses, sandals, swimsuits, hats, and glasses

There will be plenty of laying around, and playing around; some kid action, an Abuela, and oh yes yoga.

Warm weather yoga is oh so easy peasy, and considerably more pleasant than a heated room (although I must confess that I only warm up the old fashioned way when it comes to practice - layers and movement). With easy flexibility, my practice mantra must be, "stabilize, stabilize." I have found that a lot of flexibility at my age is counter productive. This is looking like one of those on the mat / off the mat realizations. So, I am drawing it all in towards center, then extending with stability from there.

I also did a little sewing this weekend, and made a School House Tunic. I love the pattern and love, love, love, how it was written. Its like an Alice Waters cook book: perfectly instructed.

The fabric screams Florida, and I even have some green shoes to match. I realize no self respecting New Yorker would wear bright green heels, but down here we often forgo sophistication. Green strappy heels go well with a sandy (as in actual sand not just color) hairdo, and fish tacos.

So if you are frozen, come on down! Don't worry, about the oil. Its stuck in a trench at the bottom of the gulf, and (as long as I'm ending with a bit of snark) you can stand around and act confused about the lack of public transportation. Maybe we could start a passive aggressive campaign against the Governor's decision to not accept funding for a rail system. Voting for it didn't work so maybe the stink eye will.

Clearly I need a vacation!

See you next week!

{This moment}

2011-02-25T06:30:00.000-08:00

{This moment} inspired by Soulemama

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-02-23T05:52:00.000-08:00

...a red breasted robin hiding in a lush green tree,

a little something on its way to becoming an apple,

TOMATOES (read with great exuberance),

clumps of violets popping up,

and a couple of readheads.

A walk in the woods.

2011-02-22T05:31:00.000-08:00

Florida is an accumulation of water and sunlight,

so as the thermostat leaves winter's cool reprise a walk in the woods feels mighty nice.

When its eighty degrees in February the earth can't seem to tilt far enough away from the sun, and filtered light helps me avoid thoughts of summer.

Sharing walks with friends is magnificent.

Little Gnomes playing in the woods. No wool hats of course; that was so last weekend!

The path beckoned us right along,

and offered many lovely little landscapes.

Parusha and the cranes; nature as soul.

2011-02-21T10:04:00.000-08:00

This morning I went out to photograph some garden goodness

and found myself witnessing a phenomenon so dear to my heart.

A spiral of Sandhill cranes were swooping, swirling, and calling as they prepared for a journey that begins so incredibly I could never fathom the magnitude of it. Or, could I? Is it possible to be so connected to community that on the first warm full moon, without a bit of debate or discussion, I would be able to join the flock trusting that the decision is right? Birds act on instinct, and they know when its time for change. I wonder if it would be possible for us to be so connected to our context, our shared experience, that we could respond with immediate, communal, and positive action. Instinct without bias; decision making clear of the mind stuff.

I have always enjoyed the play of Prakriti and Parusha (nature and soul) in witnessing my own behaviors and interactions. Today, I feel like I have witnessed, in some way, Prakriti acting as Parusha. By following their most deep and ancient instincts developed for their survival and the benefit of the ecosystems that support them; their actions are clear, right, and enveloped in soul.

Today is the day.

2011-02-18T06:32:00.000-08:00

My favorite, Cherokee Purple, from last years season.

I have a strong appreciation for cold weather since we have so little of it, but deep in my bones I know that this year we are done. The frost free date isn't until the Ides of March, and it seems awfully early to be putting tomatoes in the ground. Here I go anyway. Hopefully my instincts won't betray me.

Et tu Brute!!!

Bee Happy.

2011-02-17T14:52:00.000-08:00

I mentioned to a student of mine the other night that I seem to be accumulating animals. She happens to be a veterinarian, and in response to that she looked at me very seriously and said,

"We call that hoarding."

OK, I will confess that a moment of panic set in since I know there are scary TV shows about that, but I hadn't actually seen one. We definitely have a few pets, but could it be? Well, no. I did find the show that very same night and watched a bit in awe of what hoarding really meant. Wow.

Now for the scary part... as of today, I have 10,000 more little darlings coming my way!

This may tip my scales into crazy animal lady territory, but I'm cool with it since their poop literally doesn't stink (lets just admit that poop management is what pet care insanity really comes down too) .

You've probably already figured it out,

or maybe you're like me and the suspense is killing you.

Here's my big news: The Bees are coming!

Yes, its true, and I can barely bee-lieve it since I literally can not remember a time I did not yearn for a hive of my own. Santa was lovely and brought the hive which is so incredibly fancy. It even has windows so we can watch them work. Big and little bee keeping suits are on their way too! The only sad news is that I have to wait until the second day of May, which now feels something like five years away. It will fly by right?

When that glorious day comes, little bug and I will drive out to Hastings and pick up our little box of Italian honey bees. On a personal note I am anxiously awaiting another sweet honey bee niece, that will make it into this world soon after.

I expect to bee overloaded with joy on both occasions!

Chickens.

2011-02-16T06:08:00.000-08:00

Meet Smokey Joe:

He came home yesterday with the "new" Sabrina. In total disclosure it was an instant crush.

He's a pretty boy, no?

I think he looks like a Montilla, and he makes this funny face like our cat.

This is his girlfriend, Bubble.

This is why we decided on Bubble; Bubble is just her first name.

Smokey Joe was not only chosen for his reproductive capacities, and exuberant feathers. I'm hoping for a body guard for my girls, or at the least, an alarm. Neither of these seem to be his specialties, and this became painfully apparent when I introduced him to the other ladies. Harini, my queen of the coop made quick work of beating the crap out of him. It was awful. There was blood; lots and lots of blood. Apparently she's a liberated chicken. Who knew?

So what to do with gentle Smokey Joe? Well after carrying him around a while, which he thoroughly enjoyed. I know, this just keeps getting weirder and weirder. I set him and Bubble in with the babies. Yes, I placed a mature rooster in with my little guys and all were happy and well. A friend suggested a rename to Ferdinand. Now if I could just get a photo of him holding a flower!

Here are the rest of this springs' babies who happily snuggled in with their big new pals.

White Fella & the new Sabrina

Pepper (with head in the sand) & well her name keeps changing.

Some really tall hats.

2011-02-15T10:30:00.000-08:00

This past weekend Gnomes were running amuck in my garden, and throughout the house. After a cold evening inspired a trip to the movies (Gnomeo and Juliet no less), The cry for Gnome hats was deafening. Thanks goodness for Ravelry and a Michael's open after 6pm. Dinner, a story, and a few hours later I had some gnomy fashion for the next days play.

The pattern is here. Its even free! I used Stitch Nation "full o' sheep" yarn with some leftover Manos from my stash. Even the Paterfamilias wants one!

This one is some free range knitting while movie watching; because for someone who practices making her mind do nothing at all, I have a penchant for furious multitasking. I call it my Nefertiti hat. I'm pretty sure that doesn't need any explanation. I know, the pom pom is intimidating. If you think that is fluffy just wait until you see our new rooster.

H.V.D

2011-02-14T08:33:00.000-08:00

This morning a sweet little valentine crawled into my bed before the sun rose and informed me,

"Mama, someone left chocolate in my room!"

I thought for a moment about the possibility of valentines fairies, pink elves, or love lorn gnomes gifting little children on such a day. I thought about making it another mystery of childhood imagination and grown up entertainment. Then I answered her,

"Happy Valentines Day. I love you."

She snuggled in with a hug and said,

"Thanks Mama. I love you too."

After all, the fairies, gnomes and elves already get so much credit.

Neck Cozy (a knitting pattern of sorts)

2011-02-11T09:25:00.000-08:00

A couple weeks ago I did some highly fulfilling weekend knitting. You know the kind: instant gratification, instant warmth, & soft fluffy yarn. All you need is a good movie and a skein of Reynolds Blizzard. Viola! A neck cozy is born!

Weekend Neck Cozy

Materials:

Yarn: Reynolds Blizzard / 1 skein

Needles: size 15 (10mm)

Gauge: none required. If it doesn’t seem long enough just keep knitting!

Abreviations:

M1: make one

Skp: slip, knit, pass slipped stitch over

K2tog: knit two together

P2tog: purl two together

C10b: slip five stitches onto cable needle, hold in back of work, knit five stitches, then knit 5 stitches off cable needle

C.O. 2

k1, m1, k1

k1, m1, k1, m1, k1

*k1, m1, k to before last stitch, m1, k1

p row

Repeat from * 5 more times

K1, m1, k6, m1, p1, k1, m1, k7, m1, k1

p10, k2, p9

k9, m1, p3, k1, m1, k9

p10, k3, p10

*k10, k3, k10

p10, k3, p10

repeat from * 4 more times

Cables:

C10B, p3, C10B

p10, k3, p10

*k10, p3, k10

p10, k3, p10

repeat from * 6 more times

C10B, p3, C10B

*p10, k3, p10

k10, p3, k10

repeat from * 4 more times

Begin decreases:

K1, skp, k7, p2tog, p1, k7, k2tog, k1

P9, p2tog, p9

K1, skp, k6, k2tog, k5, k2tog, k1

P7, p2tog, p7

K1, skp, k4, k2tog, k2tog, k1

P row
K1, skp, k2, k2tog, k2, k2tog, k1
P row
*K1, knit to last 3 stitches, k2tog, k1
P row

repeat from * until there are 3 stitches left

bind off

I added some vintage buttons from my grandma's stash for a bit of decoration and a snap to fasten it.

Thanks, and happy weekend knitting!!!!

Cute and fluffy.

2011-02-10T12:10:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon, as I pulled back into the driveway after teaching I noticed a broad shadow swooping down over our back yard. The expansive wings neither fluttered or flapped. They just floated across the coop and garden.

Hawk. My heart sank. Sabrina. My stomached lurched. Again.

Sometimes being cute and fluffy really sucks. I've never lost a mean chicken to a predator; their demise is another story all together. I headed out to the coop knowing, but checking and hoping anyway. Anyone but Sabrina, PLEASE. I wasn't particularly attached (you learn that with chickens), but my girl sure was. I stepped up to their yard that was recently built as added protection and counted. One, two....we always do a head count. Lately, this is to make certain Car, (yeah that's a chicken name) hasn't roosted in a tree where she is a great snack opportunity for nocturnal critters. The count was off. "Whose missing" I asked myself, but I already knew. The next step was telling my girl.

This morning I woke up to her strawberry curls and bright clear eyes along with the Murray McMurray catalog waving in front of my still sleepy eyes. "This one Mama, " she directed me to an illustration of a fluffy little Silkie. "Really cute and fluffy so I can hold her like this," and she demonstrated how much she care she would take. With that I knew there would be yet another, Sabrina.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-02-09T05:07:00.000-08:00

...a very cold, yet sweet bee. I had to rub his back a bit to get him to look alive since he was in that bee stupor that happens when the weather is cold or rainy. It seems that he and I share a favorite spring flower, and I'm grateful for that.

Apple blossoms, among other things,

need bees to become apples!

Coffee.

2011-02-08T07:30:00.000-08:00

I felt a little stuck this morning so I asked the Paterfamilias to give me an assignment for today's post. With out even a pause he said, "coffee."

The man knows me better than I know myself.

Coffee is intrinsic to me physically, spiritually, and culturally. I know, that's a lot to put on a beverage, but its true. Last year I gave it up for Lent, and I was never happier to see the end of those 40 days - ever. My body feels better with a cup of coffee. Especially with this whole Mama gig where sleeping is a privilege, not a right. The act of drinking coffee is settling. I punctuate the beginning of each day with this ritual. I love the smell, how it feels in my hands, and sitting down to drink a cup can easily become a practice. Each sip a delicious meditation. Coffee with friends is an exquisite act of community.

Oddly enough, as much as I love coffee, coffee machines freak me out a bit. Espresso machines make crazy noises that I don't want to hear from something that involves water and is plugged into the wall. Percolators just don't make good coffee. Besides, both have parts that are uncleanable and entirely too mysterious. Most of my coffee is made with a simple stove top espresso maker or a french press.

Once my husband got the idea that we needed one of those "machines", but it was just the once

and we don't speak of it.

The landscape of coffee is soft and lush. Coffee is an understory plant and grows best beneath the rain forest canopy. Old Haciendas are cool and calm in sharp contrast to the landscape of sugar which is littered with the acts of cutting and burning in every possible permutation. The beans are delicate, and hand picked with a certain amount of care and artistry. Machinery and mountains just don't mix.

Coffee is central to the history of both of our families in Puerto Rico. My lovely cousins still produce coffee from the same farm our parents ran around as children, Finca Cialitos.

You can try some if you like. Its spectacular!

Best of all, the Paterfamilias proposed to me for the second time on top of the mountain where his Papa grew coffee. You don't turn down a proposition like that. As for the first time; well,

we don't speak of it.

A little gift and part 2 of a "good read".

2011-02-07T08:26:00.000-08:00

This weekend my girl had a special Birthday party to attend which required a very special gift, and thanks to Heather Ross and her book Weekend Sewing, I leisurely (seriously, this was easy peasy) stitched up this little frock. I made a few small adjustments: sized it up to a 5, and made it more of a racer back. After all, these are sporty girls despite their innate passion for Italian Voile. Oh yes, it is a sublime little bit of cotton from the Britex - my girl has taste.

As for the book, Weekend Sewing, if you don't have it I highly recommend it. Its been out for a couple of years, and in that time I have made several of the projects. Its a sewing book where you actually want to make and wear everything, and the projects are mostly simple enough to whip out as gifts even when there is no particular occasion.

As for part two of the unfolding Drama that is the Noro Sweater, here is the final result. It was meant to be an Oatmeal pullover, but my gauge was off enough to have to redo the math, then I wanted a more open neck line, short sleeves, and since I actually have a waist, I decided some to do some shaping and a few inches of 1x1 ribbing. My girl took this rainy day photo of it on me:

As my Papa would say, "It fits so well its like it was drawn on me!"

Yeah, my Papa says that some times.

A good read...

2011-02-04T07:21:00.000-08:00

I love books so captivating that they commit me to sleepless nights while I devour every twist as the story unfolds. Sometimes yarn has the same effect. This is some discontinued Noro Transitions I got a couple years ago on super sale. There were only three hanks left, and I have been suffering over what to make with it for some time knowing that it would be an amazing story; I did not want to end in tragedy (ie, not enough yarn to finish). So, finally, with a sense of adventure I am winging it through a top down raglan. I started with a pattern (I swear), but then I cast on. Stay tuned for the thrilling finally.

ps. not a word of this to the paterfamilias!

He thinks I am working on his slippers.

Yoga and weight loss.

2011-02-03T09:44:00.000-08:00

With January resolutions crisp in every one's minds, I get loads of emails with the same questions,

"Will yoga help me loose weight?"

and

"What is the best kind of yoga for weight loss?"

These questions come from people of all ages, abilities, and sizes. With each one my heart sinks a bit because I honestly don't know what to tell them.

Mostly, I focus on what yoga does. The asanas are healthful, physically challenging, and when taught correctly, safe. Its also fun, and the community within a yoga studio is supportive, loving, accepting, and best of all jovial. So its pleasant. Like any other exercise, yoga (when practiced regularly) will bring about some physical changes and create confidence, but unlike any other exercise, anyone can participate and its main focus is total well being. Sure, your butt may get tighter; by the time that happens you probably won't care. Yoga celebrates the body, it heals the body, but it also encourages transcendence. Believe it or not, your thighs (specifically their shape) do not make you a better person.

REALLY.

They are just thighs.

If you are in a hurry to loose weight put on some running shoes, hit the road, and eat miserably small amounts of food. I was a ballerina so I know what I'm talking about here. If you want to change your life, and make health about more than just your body - I'll see you in class!

Me, dyeing yarn. Happy, with 20 years of practice and 20 lbs heavier than when I started.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-02-02T05:59:00.000-08:00

The, apparently, weekly apple blossom update.

Fresh herbs for planting. Lavender for the bees, monarda, for the butterflies,
catnip for you know who, culantro for everything, and chamomile for me!

Garlic!!!

Oh, and Rascally Rascalton - egg sucker extraordinaire. He can suck down three eggs before I can scream,
"NO PANCHO" (hence the super shiny coat).

Ruby Red Ceviche!!!

2011-02-01T07:27:00.000-08:00

When you "eat local" in Florida, its "good eatin!" Our winter farmers markets are abundant, and seafood, avocados, and even sugar makes it to our table from not so far away. Sometimes (excluding August of course) it feels a bit like heaven, and this family recipe celebrates all that Florida has to offer.

Soulie's Abuelo is an extraordinary chef, much like his Mama and this is a little something he whips up to keep us at bay from actual dinner. I made it as a main course this weekend, and as it happens in many a kitchen, changed the recipe due to a shortage of lemons. With that wonderful mistake, I give you

Ruby Red Ceviche:

Chop into tiny bits: 1 large sweet onion, & 1 large sweet pepper.

Chop a couple big handfuls of grape tomatoes in half.

Cut 2 lbs. of fresh grouper into 3/4 inch cubes.

Put all of this in a large bowl (that also has a top for later), and give it a good coating of

Jane's Mixed-up Krazy salt. Yep, that's crazy with a K!

Juice 10 lemons and one robust Ruby Red Grapefruit. Then, cover the grouper in the juice. Add in a couple splashes of Bragg's Apple Cider Vinegar and Olive Oil, and mix well.

Cover the bowl and let it set in the fridge until the Grouper is "cooked." This should take 2 or three hours, and you can check by cutting through a piece of the fish just as if you were cooking it in the oven.

When the grouper is ready, mix in a big handful of cilantro leaves. I don't bother to chop them; I just take them off the stems.

Serve with Avocado slices, either in a bowl or on crackers.

This also makes the base for a darn good fish taco.

So, for all you folks stuck in the snowmagedon today,

please know that we are thinking of you here in sunny Florida. Come on down, the weather is fine!

Meet Sabrina...

2011-01-31T08:59:00.000-08:00

My daughter has a strong attraction to fluffy creatures, and really, who could blame her. This fall, she lost her favorite chickipoodle, Sabrina, whose overwhelming desire for cat food got her into a prickly situation resulting in a swift yet barbaric demise. Little bug stoically held her funeral under our magnolia tree, and upon patting down the soil she looked up and said,

"Mom, I'm going to need another Sabrina."

Every spring (oh yeah, its spring here in north Florida) we get a few more chickens. The overall number of birds in our flock never really increases, because frankly, things happen through the course of a year. Usually the new ones arrive as itsy bitsy biddies all piled up in a box. Mail order chicks are the sweetest thing that could possibly arrive by post, but they are also an incredible amount of work, and we are knee deep in puppy these days. Besides, they would look like little snacks to him. Have you ever seen a lab inhale food?

So this spring we visited our local chicken lady for some fluffy and hopefully broody teenagers. My girl loves the fluff, but I'm hoping for some good mamas. Two Silkies and two Cochins, all blue except that little nut colored Sabrina. Oh, and the cat food has been permanently relocated.

A flock of owls.

2011-01-28T06:33:00.000-08:00

This winter has been very bird friendly around here, and we have developed a particular fondness for owls. I finished this in the weee hours of Wednesday night (ahem, Thursday morning), and when I went to slide it over my girls head this morning for a walk her enormous noggin did not fit through. OK, so maybe its not finished after all, but I thought I'd share it anyway.

Happy weekend!

Lovely layers...

2011-01-27T08:04:00.000-08:00

This is the time of year that my girls (as in chickens) are on holiday. I don't do anything to promote winter laying. I figure an egg most days of the year is quite enough, and if that were my job I would want a nice vacation as well. Its only fair.

This is also the time of year I am seriously craving fried eggs with my kale. Its a perfect meal as far as I'm concerned, and the perfect excuse for salt and butter. Not that I wait around for excuses to eat salt and butter, but you get the idea.

So by the end of every January I start asking them to get back to business; nicely of course and often with a bit of kale in hand. Every January they play a little trick on me. While I'm busy listening to friends stories of their spring egg explosions starting early, and oohing over robust eggs at the market, I start to worry about my bedraggled (often still molting) flock. They eat well, have priority over space in our yard, and my girl (as in human) spends ridiculous am mounts of time digging up grubs for them. Its not a bad life!

Then I find it. The pile. A secret stash or two hidden throughout the garden. This one was in the shed. They also pop up in the blackberries, or under the agave - apparently my chickens prefer that I bleed a bit while collecting eggs. My coy little rascals!

Finally, I'll have eggs and kale for lunch.

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-01-26T05:47:00.000-08:00

Apple blossoms on their way! Expect a lot of these photos - they are a favorite.

A pocketful of seed packs.

Hen pecked chard. Last year I decided to order more athletic breeds of chickens so their chances against predators would be better. Apparently, their chances against a good fence is better as well. Little stinkers!!!

An amazing little winter survivor on the passiflora. Pupate, baby, pupate!!!

Daily Practice.

2011-01-25T09:54:00.000-08:00

Our lives are littered with daily practices. How we eat, sleep, and interact with others all takes a certain amount of commitment to process. Every choice made creates a ripple that affects other parts of our lives and the lives of others. On days I've had a "good practice," I feel the most connected. Nature is omnipresent, clear, and calling, and I am more aware of the rhythms and needs of those around me. This kind of success is completely dependant on my intention in practice.

In yoga asana, its easier to see all of this play out on the mat; especially as my body gets a bit older. If I don't give triangle pose the same consideration and value as something a bit more impressive and fancy, then not only have I missed out on a really great opportunity, but I'm leading myself down a slippery slope to injury.

A "practice" and a "performance" are two entirely different things. I can "perform" some of those fancy poses if you like. There are plenty of poses I can fling myself into for five breaths or so, but practice is where I am connected; totally integrated to my internal and external context. Letting go of the idea, the desired outcomes, and expectations of practice and getting down into the juiciest bits are where its at - I promise.

I feel the same way about making my daughter's morning toast. If I am present for her in this seemingly mundane task (that I often feel pressure to rush through), then it becomes a unique and enriching experience. A practice.

The family rock star. Seriously.

2011-01-24T09:25:00.000-08:00

Ok, so technically he's a country music star, and not exactly from this continent, but my Uncle Jeff just won best children's song at CMAA (Country Music Association Australia) awards for "The Fish Song" from his White Fella Man album.

His songs are all inspired by a life's work to save the planet, and I don't mean in a prius driving, practicing on an organic yoga mat kind of way either. No offense to prius drivers (I'd love one), and FYI my mat is "organic" even though I can't imagine why anyone would need to spray a rubber tree. Jeff lives on an organic farm off the grid in NSW, and has been an avid environmental and cultural activist his whole life. In his 60's, he continues to live part of each year on tribal lands working to educate children and promote Aboriginal Culture.

Surfer, farmer, white fella, and over all menace - Rock star material.

Jumping pants.

2011-01-21T06:45:00.000-08:00

This morning I've been lulling around about what to write, photograph, post, etc... I'm distracted, and a bit sleepless from some crazy news I received last night, sometimes life's surprises are peculiar enough to knock me off the path so to speak. Well, little bug to the rescue. As a good friend recently reminded me, "there is nothing like a four year old to keep you in the moment." So with that, I present this morning's masterpiece:

These are her "jumping pants". She's taken up fashion design, and has apparently found a niche market; jumpers, as in people who jump. I especially like the matching purse.

Redneck moment...

2011-01-20T05:38:00.000-08:00

...or just a chickens in the tub moment. You have those too? Our house came with a beautiful, yet highly immobile cast iron tub in the back yard. One day we will get to refinish it and our seventy year old bathroom (oh yeah fixtures and all), but until then it is an ice chest for parties, a summer pool, dog bath, and now chicken feeding tank. Redneck moments all!!!

Don't even ask about my chasing raccoons out of the coop with a shovel!

This morning in my garden, I found...

2011-01-19T09:19:00.000-08:00

I went out to take a good look at my Lady Banks rose this morning. She blooms first and furiously all over the chicken coop, but with an especially cool winter (again) there wasn't much of her to see. I did, of course, come across some other lovely and not so lovely things...

A huge avocado tree that thrived until these past two cold winters. I think maybe a black walnut will replace it.

Apple blossoms peeking out, grateful for the cold.

Osmanthus berries dripping wet, waiting for the Robins.

The resurrection fern on the coop roof coming back to life.

The topography of rest.

2011-01-18T07:51:00.000-08:00

I am a huge fan of movement, and the human body never ceases to amaze me. The exquisite organization of all of our systems, and how they work together to achieve so much is breathtaking.

I started teaching movement before I could even drive, and I'm more likely to recognize someone by the shape of their legs or how they walk than by face or name. Watching bodies move around, expand, and explore their limits is one of my guilty pleasures as a teacher. Guilty because I try my best not to be distracted by whatever is humming through my mind that doesn't pertain to my students, but I can't help those moments when the class is moving ad breathing like a beautiful chorus - filling the room with effort and intention.

There is really only one thing more astonishing:

complete and utter stillness.

When stillness is effective on a stage, the power of that moment is defined by how expressive a body can be without movement. The performer has to completely let go, and succumb to the beauty of breath: to allow for complete vulnerability. He has to be open. If you are a student of theatre, dance, yoga, or meditation, then you know there is nothing more difficult.

There is only one thing I find more difficult than achieving stillness: teaching others to embrace the possibility of complete openness and release...

to be still and rest.

A little weekend knitting...

2011-01-17T07:02:00.000-08:00

I love working on long term projects and watching them unfold; however, on a saturday night its great to pick up some big needles and chunky yarn. Yes folks, this is free range knitting and netflix. A great combination.

Welcome to the tropics!

2011-01-14T08:48:00.000-08:00

Its just another 20 degree morning here in our hot swampy corner of the world. My poor child can't move her arms, and I'm living in a pair of wool long johns. In another ten minutes or so it will be 100 degrees and 100 percent humidity so I'm embracing the cold.

Winter is for the prairie...

2011-01-13T05:32:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, enough already! The sky, the birds the buffalo; yes you have heard it all. I expect some of you may be tired of it, but my window to wander in this vast wild space is oh so short.

Every summer, at least once or twice, the paterfamilias and I will venture out along one of the dikes that traverse Payne's Prairie, and it is always regrettable. The heat and steam make your skin feel as if it could just peel off, and the sun blazes down unforgiving. The conquistadors must have really disliked their lives in Spain to stay through a Florida summer without AC. This topic always permeates the conversation of a summer walk. Most summer days we just bike out to a bluff and gaze out over it hoping for winter.

Well, winter is here in all of its glory turning the lush and impossibly green vegetation into feral textures that that glow in grey and orange. Some days, when the wind seems vicious there is great solace found between walls of grass, and some days its sunny, warm, and fresh; like summer someplace else.

So please excuse my indulgence, and never mind the repetitive nature of these winter prairie posts. I am just too ecstatic about my visits with this sweet old friend who is only accessible for such a short time.

Phone post...

2011-01-12T12:12:00.001-08:00

It's turning into "one of those days"; so I've thrown in the towel and am sitting at the park a bit thankful for this fancy phone and my ability communicate from anywhere. Sometimes I'm lucky to just lay down on my mat and call it a practice. Today's post is the equivalent of that. Ok, I'm going to just lay here for 2 more minutes and take what I can get.

It was only a matter of time...

2011-01-11T05:59:00.000-08:00

Cat's are so silly. We have a serious collection of photos of this boy in all sorts of ridiculous places. You've seen him in the dryer after all. Well, I think the goofiness was a cover up.

Its taken him some time, but he has worked his way into the stash. Yarn that is, and underneath that fluffy lump are my current favorites. Bamboo, some discontinued Noro, and Malabrigo lace for the love of wool!

The past couple months he's been sitting on the table staring right down into that basket knowing if he slipped right in the boot may hit the fur so to speak, but in a sneaky bit of litigation he did it anyway knowing the universal "don't move the cat" law would save him.

Shenanigans my feline friend; shenanigans!!!

What we say matters.

2011-01-10T05:47:00.000-08:00

When I am spending time with my Grandpa Bill, or even just chatting on the phone with him, I have to take great care with my words and with the direction of the conversation. He's about to be 93, and for the past 92 years "sharp as a tack" only mildly described him. Now, however, he has a bit of trouble with the sequence of a conversation, and is at a disadvantage when it picks at details. On the other hand, my paltry 38 year old mind loves details, and if I succumb to that habit, our relationship becomes asymmetrical, and we are no longer on equal footing. Its my responsibility to make certain that doesn't happen.

It seems simple, but I am lazy (aren't we all). My compulsion to keep the conversation "full" usually riddles it with garbage that causes clutter and confusion for him. If I give my words attention, give him space to respond, and share in the development of it.... well then, its delicious!!! I get to hear about campaigns across Africa during WWII, how he structures his goal setting, and the importance of creativity in a challenging economy - great depression style.

If I give my words attention there is dialogue. Instead of holding him hostage with my blabber I am learning, and our relationship has blossomed; despite the fact that remember a word of it!

(I wrote this last night as a reaction of sorts to the recent violence that was encouraged by thoughtless words. A little consideration, some compassion - we will have to break old habbits to encourage productive dialogue.)