Place

There is a place called home, far away from Rome, from where we roam and return. Season's turning and the garden we seeded and grew this year is drawing near to close.  It gave of itself as a place of pleasure, work and leisure, medicine food and flowers, sitting with butterflies for hours, crooning bees,...

Pacing

Lessons from a child Climb steep slopes with attention Trust inner balance Discovery waits Barely visible in leaves Unhurried motion

Mid-Summer Swinging

O will you lay with me Beneath a shady tree, On a ship we'll set a sail Row out to meet a whale, Under the clear bright skies We'll swing and shut our eyes, O will you come with me Out to the apple tree. summer days . . .  rains washed out the patchwork...

Workdays

Sixty bales of straw.  Half went around our fruit trees::  they needed heavy mulch, and with chickens and a dog scratching, shredding, and scattering mulch all over the place, I'm trusting these bound bales, squared and trined around the base will do the trick of killing the grass and simultaneously mulching, so with time there...

crystalize

Fresh Rose petals minced into pancake batter, flecking and infusing the bread with red. Fresh Rose petals chopped and sprinkled over honey cakes, eat love hot from the griddle where Jasper liberally drops flakes of butter around the sizzling batter while he sings and burbles and the pancakes chatter. Daily beginning side by side, cuddling...