Fish and Rabbits

I spent the day butchering rabbits. It's hard to explain how it feels. Its a solemn kind of day, there's no vulgar cheering or pride; straight faces, calm hands, a focused kind of demeanor mark our gratitude. I was thinking it feels like I spent the day clear-cutting a forest.  When we kill rabbits, we kill a whole litter. Today we did two litters. But people who clear cut a virgin forest and then replant it with hybridized saplings thinking that makes up for the entire community they just destroyed are doing something that is greedy and ungrateful, even cruel. What I did today was done in a different spirit.

A few days ago, I watched as a group of students and teachers harvested eggs from the female salmon they had caught in a catch pond as the chum were headed upstream to spawn in their freshwater home. The students picked up the surprisingly huge creatures, verified that they were female, laid the fish down as it was wacked over the head with an aluminum baseball bat, then tossed into a cart full of water. Other students then took the carcasses and sliced open their bellies, releasing the eggs into a bucket. This was all new to me, having spent most of my life in the midwest and being completely unaccustomed to seaside life. I was surprised by how gruesome it was. The routine nature of the killing, and the smirky joviality that the handler of the baseball bat had seemed cruel to me, as if he didn't even recognize that he was ending so many lives. And the reason for all this, for collecting eggs and spawning them in tubs inside of buildings, is because greed has become the norm. We fish more than we need, more than would naturally occur, so fisheries make sure fish are raised with higher survival rates than salmon that are born naturally in streams.

"No it wasn't simply the death of fish that bothered me. The thing I found offensive, the thing I hated about Mohican-mountain-makers, gill-netters, poachers, whale hunters, strip-miners, herbicide spewers, dam-erectors, nuclear-reactor-builders or anyone who lusted after flesh, meat, mineral, tree, pelt, and dollar--including, first and foremost, myself--was the smug ingratitude, the attitude that assumed the world and its creatures owed us everything we could catch, shoot, tear out, alter, plunder devour . . . and we owed the world nothing in return." (David James Duncan, The River Why, p. 134)

Cheers

It's Sunday again. Which means I write. And another thing too, it's fall. Which means, I'm content.  There are these few weeks each year that make the rest of the year worth it. And most days are foggy or dreary, but every miserable winter day is worth these few sunny days where the leaves glow as if they're on fire with the light of the sun, or when the wind blows and we can't keep focused on anything except the dead pine and fir needles floating down and the burnt orange maple leaves rustling their way to the ground. I notice my breathe more these days; maybe there's just more substance in the air to feel filling my lungs. I want nothing more than to work with my whole body these days. Gardening, cutting firewood, stacking firewood, anything where I can be outside during the day and heat myself with my labor. The sun goes down slowly and early, then we all stay inside where its warm and light.

Yesterday the electricity went out. I think for everyone it brings back memories of being a kid, huddled around candles reading books or playing games, like a fun adventure. I like the excuse to be with everyone else who doesn't have electricity without the usual buzz of television or music. It's the same reason I love going to the mountains. You have to deal with yourself and with each other directly, honestly, without neon distractions.

This is my toast to autumn. Here's to shorter, slower days, reading books, knitting projects, working outdoors, squash soup, cups of tea, and times with the people we love when the power goes out.

I Came To Find Beauty

This is the kind of place where people wear sensible shoes
I watch their feet. Up. Down. Painted. Clean. Dirty.
Usually I see faces, but today feet.
I look over a bit too long at the boy two stalls over.
I sure wouldn't mind if he came over, if you know what I mean.
The ocean breeze might just push him this way.
Does anyone ever think the same thing about me?
I wonder.
It's funny how our bodies mean so much to us when we are young.
The strength and perseverance of my own muscles continually amazes me.
The old lady buying cheese from me has hump so big on her back,
it looks like a cat crawled up her shirt and is curled up,
asleep below her shoulders.
God, our tall, lean, curly-haired children would be beautiful.
I'm still eyeing that boy.
She said we all come to this island to find beauty.
Maybe she's right.
I wander.

Here's To Summer

sleepy morning

summer morning

picking bouquets of weeds

in fields of sheep

the robin's whistle taunting me

the greenhouse whirs

telling me what I already know

to put on my shorts

and feel the sun on my shoulders

these long summer days

call for deep sleep at night

playing games all day

with feet black by dusk 

I cherish these days

my skin turns that golden brown

my curls a shade lighter

my body feels light too

and my heart can't help but do the same

A Postcard

Dear Sheep,

Why do you always act so suspicious of me? I've known you for months, spent hours a day talking to you, touching you, bringing you everything you need to survive. Yet you still act unsure of me. I want to tell you to trust me, but then again, some day I may be the one to push you into a trailer that marks the end of your life, so maybe you're right not to fully trust me. I admire you for your patience. You know those days when I come to get you and I'm in a rush and you all just refuse to hurry up for me? Well, thanks for that. I know I have to slow down to your pace and putz along as you do. I feel lucky to be the one to wake each of you up in the morning, wait for you to stretch, take your morning pee and poop. You aren't affected by my rushed behavior...I wish I could be more like that, you know? Take my time, not get rushed by other people, stretch in the morning.

Another thing, it's so bold of you to stray from the flock when you do. It makes me glad that you're hesitant to go it alone, knowing the protection of being among friends.

And your curiosity, especially you young ones, is something I sympathize with greatly. How interesting the world is and all new things, thanks for reminding me. There's just so much about you I wish to emulate--your strength yet gentleness, playfulness, calm nature. And I know you're competitive sometimes, but I guess that just comes with living in such close quarters with others.

You're my girls, ya know. My friends, really. I'm so glad our paths have crossed.

W

21 List

"Fear. Belief. Love. Phenomena that determine the course of our lives. These forces begin long before we are born and continue after we perish"

I've just had another birthday so my list of 21 things to do while I'm 21 should have been completed by now. Of course, I didn't do everything, but then again, I never do. Also, the point of the list isn't really to complete every action on the list, but to align myself and figure out who I want to be by the end of that year.

The list of things I did do:
1. Hike in the Grand Canyon ( 10/5 Rim to Rim)
3. WWOOF
5. Stop being afraid of climbing
6. Keep in touch
7. Get a job
8. Write: journal, blog...something
9. Make cheese
10. Hang out with Mo
11. Try to have a relationship with professors my last semester of college
14. Think about/ learn about what it means to love
15. Yoga everyday for one month (February...what up)
16. Learn about herbal medicine and practice it
17. 21 National Park visits (I only got to 15...but that's pretty good)
18. Figure out what I want/ who I want to be
20. Send a letter per week
21. Take more photos

What I didn't do:
2. Visit Boulder, CO
4. Get a tattoo (it will happen as soon as I think of something good enough)
13. Hike Wonderland trail (but I  made it to WA and I look at Mt. Rainier every clear day)
19. Do Karaoke (it'll happen...)

Most of them were easy to measure. The hardest were numbers 14 and 18. I thought I'd share the little I figured out.

So, who do I want to be/ what do I want? I want to not buy into hate and fear, be genuine, confident (not try to be anything than honest to myself and others), balance logic and emotion within myself, live a calm, contented, simple (yet adventurous) life: garden, cook, read, make music, hike, live in a beautiful place, learn constantly, use my hands, creativity, brain all at once, include everyone (be kind, be kind, be kind).

What I learned about love. This one is harder to answer and while I've experienced love and heartbreak a little more, it's pretty damn hard to write down what I've learned from my experiences. I've learned that heartbreak is lonely and just plain awful. The first 10 days of a romantic relationship are awesome. It gets harder from there. But for some reason, it's worth it.

I mostly learned to simply be open to love. Open to giving love freely and receiving it joyfully and being supportive of love between others. To be caring, gently, loving--it's not weak, it's actually a sign of strength and selflessness. I also learned that I have to be deliberately open in order to love others.

"I love because my love is not dependent on the object of love. My love is dependent on my state of being, so whether the other person changes, becomes difference, a friend turns into a foe, does not matter, because my love was never dependent on the other person. My love is my state of being. I simply love." -Osho

"When we love, we always strive to become better than we are. When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too." - The Alchemist

Hello year 22! A new list coming my way soon!

Reunion

all we want is to connect
to be a part of something
a family, a history
the story of life itself
but we don't know how
so we obsess over our iphones
hoping for some glimpse of human connection
we go to church and feel God
feel a part of something outside ourselves
take mind-altering drugs
and drown ourselves in alcohol
poisons that blur the disconnect
maybe its all a matter of opinion
who am I to judge what is better and worse.
You know, I can't help but convince myself
 that I am right
and they're all wrong.

because I've seen just a glimpse
the story of why I am who I am
why my mother raised me to be thoughtful
and how her mother, her grandmother,
her great-grandmother did the same.
I cherish the stories, the similar noses,
the deep hugs, the love of strangers
I feel inextricably connected to.

She drew me close
to make out the shape of my eyes
through her own aging, worn eyes,
saying how much I resemble
the woman I love so dearly.
She called me beautiful
then posed with a smirk,
"well, of course she is,
look who she takes after!"

And, another, she rides motorcycles.
the others fear her boldness.
she says what she means
not too sweet, but not too sour.
she knows of her autonomy
but recognizes how limiting it can be
drawing her to adventures here and there
cold dips in mountain pools
sweet, delicious mangoes in faraway places
the eyes of someone who needs something she has
and stories aplenty to captivate
to share, to teach the next generation
what it means to be a human.

so I go home, still unsure of what that word means
but its land and its people,
I am forever entwined with.
and the orange glow of the sunset
illuminates the trees like never before
the trees rest on the land of the old neighbors
the ones who have no one to give the land they love to
he notices the setting sun, the ending of the day
and I wish I could be the loved one
he passes his home unto.

I haven't felt motivated to write much lately, but today I'm feeling the need to be creative. And while building a fort or doodling or making pottery are all options, writing always ends up being the thing I need to do most.  ...even if it is just a dumb blog post. I'm sitting here on my porch noticing the new songs of birds that come around each day, the constant baaaaa-ing of the wee little lambs, and the purr of the vacuum pump down in the milking parlor. I can breathe deeply now. My body feels strong, balanced, open thanks to all that yoga I've been doing and lifting so many heavy things throughout the day. My heart feels more open than it ever has been. Open to being loved and of giving myself freely, open to the depth of joy and change. "Enjoy each experience that comes to you, and don't think about it too much"--my newest mantra in life.

A Day In The Life Of A Shepherdess

I've been trying to think of the best way to describe my experiences of the past couple months, but I'm not really sure how to go about it. So, I think I'll just start with today. Here's what happened

I woke up at 6am, it's dark. I make a big pot of coffee for everyone. I mix up the milk replacer and feed the 19 baby lambs. I gave them new straw for bedding and they went nuts, bouncing with their uncoordinated limbs, hitting each other, the walls, the panels, the water bucket. Oh the joy of straw in the morning. Got a panicked call that there was chaos in the barn, so we put on our jackets and boots and headed down the hill making jokes about what the chaos could be. The chaos: one sheep had twins, another sheep had been in labor all night and hadn't had any of her babies yet but decided that one of the twins must be hers. Meanwhile, the 40 other sheep are running around like bimbos because they want food. We give them food, get the twins with their mama in a pen. Meanwhile we stick a hand into the one who had had contractions all night and pull out a little white ewe, stick hand back in and pull out a little black ewe. We put them all in a pen. I spend the next half hour getting the babies dry (via towel and hair dryer), clipping umbilical cords, weighing them, getting them to nurse, making sure their mama doesn't step on them. Meanwhile, I see another baby beginning out of the baby-stealing mama, so we pull a big strapping ram out. She's still in labor, so we pull another big strapping ram out of her. Dry, clip, weigh, record, feed, water. Time for breakfast.

Also today: one of the new strapping rams got stepped on and we had to take care of him. One of the quads was far too itsy bitsy and cold so we had to take care of her. Little oven from the other day wasn't looking too hot--nursed her back to health. A stillborn lamb came out of mama with the twins after passing her placenta. The chicken coop flooded. Taught some lambs to bottle feed. Put stomach tubes into a lot of lambs. I cried twice, laughed a lot, took a lot of deep breaths. I really didn't like finding and picking up the rigid stillborn lamb. I started swinging it from its back legs to see if it might be alive, then I held it for a second waiting for it to kick or move like all the other lambs, but nothing happened. And I realized that I really didn't want to hold it anymore.

I really really like sheep. They are fantastic animals. Taking care of them feels tiring right now. But let me tell you about that sheep milk yogurt and cheese...yum.

Slow Roasted Lamb

Itty Bitty opened her eyes to a new world where chaos and tension overwhelm even the largest of creatures so being a fraction of the size of everything around her made this new world nearly unbearable for her tired, cold, and wet body. Without being able to think amidst such commotion and confusion, she just stood up and balanced as best she could and crawled into a dark, quiet, calm place more like the one she was used to. She felt cold, but couldn't bear going back to the chaos. She thought about going back to find her mother, but the cold had seeped into her bones and wasn't going away. So, she curled up as tight as she could. After what felt like hours upon hours of the most bitter cold she saw two big brown eyes, a warm nose, and a black and white furry tail wagging back and forth in excitement at finding her in her hiding place...discovered at last! And by a much too excited border collie. But, before she could react she was snatched up into a warm, soft cavern, carried by a strange, fur-less creature. She was plopped down back into the bright, new world except she had found her mother next to her this time and two friendly faces she recognized from that dark world who looked just as scared as she felt. Before she knew it, she felt a little less wet, but just couldn't seem to feel warmth yet. The furless creatures were blowing hot air on her, but the cold had seeped in so deep that the hot air blower felt nice but moving muscles and bones was far too hard still. She was moved to a much warmer place with much softer brightness. The creatures put her into the perfect sized box inside the warmest place she could imagine. And she immediately felt a liveliness like never before, so she hopped up onto her feet and shook from nose to tail every little part of her body that had once been immovable and now tingled with warmth. Little Oven, as she soon became named, got a full belly that night and could barely move after such a big meal. Although gracious to the furless creatures for saving her life, she missed those friendly faces from earlier and went back to join her friends that looked more like her. Sometimes it's just nicer to be around others who are familiar to you.

Someone just shared this video with me and I had to share it here too. This video just captures everything that we all love about Joni Mitchell. She's such a talented songwriter, so honest in this video, and man, doesn't she have this enchanting beauty about her?

A Lil' Video and Tuneage for your viewing pleasure

Eating Lots of Peaches

The most recent phase of my life has begun! I don't know if it's farm time or island time but the week I've been here has felt like forever. Something about this lifestyle really changes how time works. I've felt it before living in Bass Lake, where days fly by yet last forever. This slow life was much needed after the past 3 1/2 years of rushing through books and speed-writing papers, learning new things at such fast paces that I'm not sure I actually learned a damn thing. This week I've learned a lot about sheep, how to use saws, mastering my nail gun skills, spinning wool, making cheese, making soap, canning, raising meat rabbits, and just plain ol' country life. My biggest fear of being lonely has been easily averted due to all the new literature that these folks are tossing my way (and I'm loving!), a new knitting project, and 3 very social people with lots of good stories and good friends to share. 

Some Highlights (thus far):

• The daily afternoon beer is sure to give me a beer belly in a month, but the trail runs that we've been going on have made up for it. 
• I like prolonging my interactions with the sheep as much as possible. The ewes are the sweetest things to walk this earth, trying to get their heads and chins pet as much as possible. Liz, the border collie, rivals them for the sweetest sweetheart. Sheering is this week, and then babies come at the end of the month! I'll have so much more to learn then because with babies comes milk, which means lots of milking, which means lots of cheese making. 
• Been enjoying goofing around with the old man and hearing his stories of traveling all over the world in his earlier hippie days. Getting my wheels turning about what's next for me after my stay here! His travels in Nepal were especially interesting and his photos and drawings made it all the more enchanting. 
• Best thing about the farm: either the golf cart or the sauna
• 3 cute pups. Jet loves sheep, he licks them on their noses. Liz loves being pet and talking. Rodo rolls rocks down hills. 
• Good food. Fresh eggs are so delicious and flavorful compared to store bought eggs, bacon...the best bacon I've ever had, lamb sausage, and the cheese! Eating like a king these days. Did I mention the kegerators?
• It's beautiful here. Simple 'nuff. Views of Mt Rainier, the Olympics, and the Cascades on 3 sides. 
• Being around such creative, thoughtful, happy, content people makes livin' easy. 
• My own space. Haven't had so much privacy...ever. It's nice.

That's about it for now. Looking forward to the next nine months.