Sunday, December 28, 2014


 just above the pond
 rock book, no pages
christmas thaw
it is a funny thing
i've been on a vacation of sorts
incapacitated by lethargy begotten by hard work
very hard work.
and so, now i take my time.
i walk around this christmastime and gather and search and seek
like some madwoman wishing a true sign
(and the snow has all gone away
and the damned ticks come out to see
if it's spring just yet.
global warming. 
cockroaches and ticks.)
what do i find?
strawberry leaves, green and red,
shallow mud holes,
dogbane and milkweed
whose fibers i happily strip,
stuff my pockets,
and bring home to make twine while we talk
after supper is done
but the stories are not.
so, there is this lariat of twine
good for use.
used for good.
black and mahogany and white
all these. 
this string for you, my friends.
a string of pictures
 ruffed grouse just drowned
 old barn foundation
being here

Sunday, December 21, 2014


darkness comes
more and more.

we shrink and stretch

as we fight this torpor
hiding the deep fear of the deep darkness.
 instead of loving the endings
loving them i say!
as the year subsides
and the dear light leaves.
it is deep winter 
cold this solstice.
but warmth is coming with the holyday.
 these spent blossoms
search for a pollinator until they fade.
i take home to print with.
 around these hills
the land settles,
 the big birds are now seen.
and many days i watch them hunt
if i'm lucky enough.
it's a stewart brand lesson:
there's no such thing as free lunch.
while we can't prepare food there yet,
we can hang out,
pour a cup of water,
wash the clothes or bathe,
watch the friendly doe skirt the pines,
hear a great horned
or a coyote family.
if there's been sun enough for the panels,
or snow enough to ski,
or love enough to sustain,
we are blessed.
may you be blessed as well.
a hopefull solstice to you.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

warmth and dirt

i like black and white 
skinny stripes
 my daughter hannah knit me a hat
for my birthday
i've been twining thread.
dogbane fiber
chose me when i was thinking of what could get me out 
into the meadow
before the snows.
not milkweed this time,
 do you see this lovely book?
made by elina lundahl
this book entices me, 
and elina's blog informs.
 isn't it fine?
and this little one i like
but has several editorial slips.
these are models of bindings
made by j. a. szirmai who wrote
the archaeology of medieval bookbinding.
 they inspire me
as did my medieval binding teacher jim croft.
i was listening to dr. kimmerer 
talk yesterday during my snow day
(for some of you, 
a snow day is a day off due to
 ~as i twined yesterday~
it grew and grew
 this fiber wasn't neatly harvested
or harvested early enough
 but it holds together
and i was keeping my fingers employed
 as the big snow came down and the wind played tricks.
and i listened and thought,
hands informing heart informing brain...
an opportunity came along during the afternoon
which was inspiring.
(keeping it close for now)
  the snow came all day yesterday,
and today my neighbor fred from down the road
swung by 
and plowed out my driveway
 he won't take money
but i will repay that kindness
when and how i can.
only about a foot, 
but heavy, wet, and slippery
this snow.
here's the dogbane 
and two small pieces of my hosta paper
with applied ochers gathered over the weekend from a road cut 
over by richville.
i think there are possibilities
for north country dirt!

Tuesday, December 9, 2014


light is necessary
and causes a stir deep in my heart 
this time of year
can you smell the beeswax?
 light comes from within
 thin ice
framing rocks and twigs
 and makes riverscape on frozen rivulet
 light on my old barn
 burns it brightly
until it may, perhaps
catch fire and fly away.
 as usual i'm looking for light,
and junko oki has made a new book
a real catalog of work
 bound with an industrial sewing
 encased in a slipcase
 her stitches
(so many stitches) 
 i love how her needle dances
and sings
and tells stories, jokes,
her book is here
and is worth the bother to find.
and another book
by jean is a new shimacho
a sample book
 and i am deeply honored that
the pages are my handmade paper
there was yet more light,
from my realtor
homemade wine.
the house is still waiting for a buyer.
my back is doing much better, thank you for the advice and good wishes.
though school stumbles along, limping and dancing, mostly limping
as we wind down toward solstice
and little tiny light.

Friday, December 5, 2014

sunsets quietly

 this week
all week
my back, my strong never achy back
 got injured somehow...
stress, age, old injury
 i have taken to doing core strengtheners
some exercises and heat
and a couple of pharmaceuticals.
the back is doing better now, but i am tired
my bones are tired, my brain feels fuzzy.
 it's been quite cold
but the snow is gone again.
 and school, my work
has been, shall we say, theatrical.
you would hardly believe what's happening in public education
it makes my back ache, my head spin.
there are some things that brighten my days
like this sunset yesterday.
 i am hoping december will soften things a bit
some snow, 
some caring, 
some love
i will miss the small miracles
for grumpinesses.

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