not going

it seems like i just can't push

as hard as i used to.

i'm not going to cleveland.

i'm staying 

"to home"

staying put.

trying to get my energy

back

and harness this old gray mare 

for the next few weeks before retirement.

i am tired.

i didn't know how much,

but i am.

so with regret

i'm not going,

with joy in the staying, though.

there is a soft rain this morning.

and i've been "talking" to dear felicity

and to another dear, linda

and aimee and pam.

friends support just by their very beings.

others, some in the forms of magnificent crows

hover close.

care

 sometimes another person

saves you

and they don't even know it

 sometimes

someone knows exactly 

 what will raise the spirit

restore.

a book of images

silver, cloth, paper

(three women)

to examine, perhaps with a lens?

 your eyes

a hand lens

a sherlock style glass!

and change your seeing

 on my table

these things

join the books in process

i am happy to follow where 

the books will lead me,

even a tiny one

especially a tiny one

to wear over my heart.

thank you
roz.

yesterday friends

reached out to me

you know, sometimes you need that
more than you even imagine.
there was a bear
a drum
a hawk,
words, prayers, even,
and winter
all visited me leaving
images that keep me alive.

healing

 this is how

my body has felt

 for a couple of days

 a strange cold aching

seems like it's time to move on

 in the mail came a surprise

aimee feels like this as she sorts through hedi's magic.

 i've felt this way long enough!

(and there was a great phone talk, grin)

riches of friendship

thanks for the get wells.

snow day

wednesday evening sky over the meadow

thursday started out rough

not nearly enough sleep

wendy has some hard nights

and then so do i

 but on thanksgiving

we went out to the meadow

 and played

wendy, melissa, and me

 we gathered up some milkweed

stripped up a bunch while wendy played

can this be called spalted?

it was a glorious time 

before a small meal with just four of us

family and friends

simple food, wine, and conversation

later

we stayed up talking to all hours

melissa and i

and after a wonderful morning of talk and tea and more talk 

she took to the road for cleveland

unfortunately she encountered lake effect snow 

along the way.

which made its way to the north country today

a reminder 

of a bundle of cloth

and one of paper

we prepared and jarred up 

to be opened in a while

back in chicago.

and here in the north country

a gray day, but it looks like winter

has arrived.

friends

i'm a woman who is richly blessed in friends.

often, they surprise me.

(sometimes they scare the living daylights out of me)

 though the year is light in snow, 

there is some ice

at raven pond.

 the bramhalls are busy

 as far as i know neither 

is of inuit heritage

but there is a long tradition of 

 harvesting ice in the north country.

 there is serious ice construction

underway.

a little glimpse into the north country.

a good place

to make friends, 

some who are here.

and some in the ethers, elsewhere.

for my friends, i send you these photos

from pat and butch, 

through me, 

to you

happy sunday.

deep

we took the hooligans deep into the woods thursday and friday, working at an old boy scout camp that the boces special education program rents each summer for camp which is part of the summer school program. endless beds have to be hauled around and fabricated into bunks.

no running water or electricity, but a lake and outhouses. voracious bugs didn't deter us from readying the campsites and sweeping out several buildings.

once done, we boarded out short bus and trundled deeper still into the woods to visit a bog. i. did. not. have. my. camera. fool of a woman.

friday night, once showered and fed, i happily planned for another visit to the woods, this time to see my wonderful friends pat and butch bramhall. they live in a handmade, passive solar house filled with sunshine and laughter and love. we ate and talked and talked and talked. i made big bubbles under butch's tutelage on the bridge over raven pond.

butch makes amazing balls that i love. there might have been a little joking about balls... and talk about our wounded mother earth, and teaching kids, and making things. i met new friends who visited while i was there. it was an amazing day.

many mennonite farms in the arable land near the bramhalls place. some have instructions.

the late veronica terrillion, filled her "yard" with sculptures, that are now deteriorating. i remember my first time seeing this place, and was too shy to go over and meet the woman tending this "garden". i could kick myself now. 


when i got home i found that wendy was afraid. she didn't hear the weather report, but i did. tornado warnings until 8. she felt the weather report.

heat and a dear friend, not a duck! well, maybe a duck.

89 degrees here in the north country. the ice is barely out of the rivers! i'm felling faint! the light is surreal as well. supposed to be in the 60s tomorrow. 

i came home today from yoga and car maintenance (removing snow tires!) to the mail and this note from carol. i met carol blinn in the 80s through the mail. i saw a review about her book: Once Upon a Time, Book Two. i knew a tiny bit about letterpress printing, and the fact that this was funny, made by a woman, and about a duck blew me away. so i ordered it.

 i read with delight the tale of sipper.

sipper is transfigured in this tale:

she becomes three dimensional. and so, over the years i bought some of carol's books and  all of the once upon a time series. and the magic that happened is that we became friends by correspondence. one day when i was traveling through massachusetts with hannah and ian, i stopped at one cottage street, and we met. she gave us the grand tour of her shop, a place not to be believed, magical, ian and hannah still talk about it. carol taught me to make paste papers at wells college, and there we also attended the summer book arts institute. 


a few years ago i wrote a narrative about making an edition of handmade paper from birds' nests. i was struggling mightily with it, my graphic arts skills are less than rudimentary. carol offered help. i sent my ideas and text to her, she liked it and gave me some ideas. i still was stuck, this job was bigger than my skills. one day she gently said she would love to publish it. i would have to let her be in charge. that was a little scary, but i decided to do it.

24 nests is the small book, a booklet actually, with text, sample of the paper, sample of my record sheet, a drawing of a nest and an afterword by carol. the book, a slim story, became much, much more with her designing, editing, and afterword. 

in the afterword carol writes about our friendship ("My file is bulging with little notes written in Velma's almost indecipherable script on her homey handmade paper. There are sheets of folded milkweed paper protecting a braid of horsehair from her beloved horse, Mist.") more beautifully than i could ever. but i can still say here in public that carol j blinn, as my students say, rocks! go take a look at her press:

www.warwickpress.com.