barnyard haiku

cold pink sun, snow shines,

behind gate and course hair,

llama's yellow teeth.

black eyed, bulging fluff

"administer the hay please"

they never thank me.

trotting and bleeting,

although merely a dead stump,

kings of any mountain.

thoughts of the day: thanksgiving day

If Thanksgiving  could have waited another week, I would have been ready for it. This may have been the first time I have ever been truly, and chosenly, alone for Thanksgiving. Kinda strange, but frankly, necessary.


Yesterday was my first real day off in months, because I know it will be followed by another day off and then another and another!!! So, as all first days off go...I wandered in a fog, doing mindless tasks.
I did, however, talk with a handleful of people that are close to my heart, and they siphoned from me all the social energy. I slept like a sinking whale carcass.


And today I woke up, ready to feel again. I miss waking up just feeling READY.


I did things that reset by empirical self: such as thoroughly cleaning the truck (which included removing a couple quarts of pea gravel, and a few pounds of farm soil, from the cab alone.)
I spun records. (thanks to Wes Montgomery, Joni Mitchell & Built to Spill)
I carefully sawed some ornamental gourds that have been curing for a year, and painted them. tomorrow i'll epoxy em and they will go to those pre-qualifying souls, who shall remain unnamed.


I really wasn't hungry all day, but still really wanted to make delicious food.
So, I roasted parnsips, potatoes and purple-top turnips in olive oil and oregano (feta cheese added later). I made a quick, tamari-shitake mushroom gravy which was drizzled over the roasted goods that were placed over a pile of sweet spinach and chopped roasted garlic in one ceramic bowl.
Then I made baked pumpkin pie-pudding, that i created a crispy, coconut-millet crust that was actually successful (awe Millet, we are finally getting to know each other).
I also sipped on this delicious small batch hard cider finished with Belgian yeast called "Crisp."


I ended the day by watching American Psycho, which made me laugh and gawk at Christian Bale's amazing performance. seriously.


I tried not to think of the things that have been weighing heavily on my heart. the things that make me nervous and stressed out. I am just thankful to have some time alone. I miss my family and that ever-warming sunshine that goes straight to the bones.


"Songs are tattoos, you know
I've been to sea before.
Crown and anchor me
or let me sail away...
Hey blue, there is a song for you."


-Joni Mitchell

Thought of the day viii:

As I'm sure you've noticed in your neighborhood, a great number of tree limbs are yawning over the sidewalks; they are laying on the roofs of homes and the patio furniture and stretching across front lawns, jabbing into the earth where it landed in a thud. 
The snow that had broken those already feeble joints and ripped them off like hangnails or the clothes of rape victims, and has since melted, 
but the cold remains. 

Energy workers climb ladders and lifts to make repairs, before the next storm crashes over the Rockies. I can see it's muffin-top teeming up for the decent. 

There is still much to be done on the farm, much to be picked up, pulled out, spread out, dissembled, organized, cleaned and stored. But the snow crests her doorway, like an impatient landlady waiting to sabotage our tiny efforts, so we might as well give up a little, and I suppose am happy to do so, and maybe take some chances, too.

Thought of the day vii:

Orale!

"Baila Sali!


Porque no bailas?!"


Maria or Chayo, as we like to call her. Little one. She yells my name.
Even if I am right there in front of her, she commands it, emphasizing the second syllable. 
Four or five couples have taken the floor in a traditional spinning poka. 
Their hats are all alike. Bright colored embroidered coats. Their boots are Ostrich. 
Big-ass belt buckles, flashing Gold chains, Jewelry everywhere. 

And the women are dressed up too. 
Their hair is big and hair-sprayed shut. They are clipped together stiff, skirts tight, but they are agile and quick. Some cling to their partner, for dear life, while he spins her dizzyingly. Others hold loosely and lean out to scold a family member for not dancing. 




I nod politely when they scold me. 
"Si, yo voy, jolito." 


My stomach is still engaged in battle from the incredible homemade Mole, carne asada and rice I wolfed down. I normally don't eat meat, but this stuff was AWESOME.


 I was the only gringa to attend this familial fiesta that took place in the same double-wide all fiestas in this trailer park did. I did not want to spoil the mood by trying too hard, so i hung low and spoke with a few patient, warm-hearted folks at the table. 
I drank too many Coronas. They kept opening more bottles for me, before i even finished them. 
Javier would watch from across the room, ready to pounce on the empty bottle. 
"Otro?"
"No, no gracias. Si tomo mas, voy a bailar, entonces no mas por favor!"


Javier works on the farm too. He is married, has two kids and an ever-undampened spirit.
He laughs at my poor spanish and pops open another beer for me. Oh geese.

I feel sick, but a little brave. I decide to give in. 


Javier and Maria's parents are wonderfully kind to me. The dad entreats me to dance with him and yes, por su puesto, if he doesn't mind going slow. He is in his 50's, works 16 hour days and this is his first day off in two weeks. He is quite drunk, but merry. He laughs and says he will teach me how to dance.
I feel the unmovablely shy, pink smile take over my face. I stare at my feet almost the whole time, trying not to step on his pointy boots. I look up at Chayo to say silently, 
"See what a dork i am?!" 

"Que Valiente!" A woman I had been talking with whispers to me.
She said most white people wouldn't have tried. But I figure, hell, what do i have to lose? I am already the singled-out one. I might as well have no regrets. 
Everyone was good-humored. I left very early, respectively, around 11pm. I had to get up a 4am for the farmer's market.  As did Chayo and Erica (sisters to Javier). They all work on the farm in different capacities. Their family had a farm in Mexico and the kids grew up operating tractors and fixing primitive irrigation systems.


I feel honored that they invited me to a family fiesta. I am learning alot from them these days. 


And that is that.

complete thought of the day: vi.

unlike worms
unlike wild fermentations
unlike loneliness


to-do lists don't do themselves.


It is rare these days, but today while waiting for my laundry at the mat, i visited four out of the other five establishments in the strip-mall, purchasing items at each place, including some whiskey for cider toddies (it is, after-all, the first snow of the year), and developing three canisters of film at stupid walgreens. 
When will i learn to first develop ONLY the contact sheets and not waste money on all the prints of my horrid attempts at photography, dear me!
Needless to say, by the time the clothes were done, all my money had magically disappeared.
 At least i have some fun music to spin tonight, including: Moody Blues "days of future passed," an all-time favorite, Swedish music of the Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra, and the soundtrack to Jodorowsky's "El Topo"!!!. I was rather conservative NOT to buy three Simon & Garfunkel records that i love and a bunch of weird no-name records from the 70's that were almost too nasty/absurd-looking to pass up. almost.
oh and another book that will sadly just have to put it's name on the list and get in line. I cannot resist checking out these used-book stores that open up. Especially when they are operated by extremely introverted people who hide cleverly from their customers and speak in teeny tiny voices behind eNOURmous glasses. That's what i call choosing the right profession. 


signing off to this tune...


"Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?"

complete thoughts or something: v.

had some extra time.
so i used it trying to think of what i could say.
darn it, then. 

complete thought of the day: iv.

Though at times annoying, i do recall with a comforting nostalgia the "Proverb of the day" that my mom would have us read, each morning, before school.
reflection is priceless.

thought of the day: iii.

in one bowl sits
the triumvirate, called to action.
Symbols for ultimate balance of authority:
avocado, salt, pepper.

complete thought of the day: ii.

And some morning I'll see the tail end of a cats' quick-sprint across the lawn;
But it will feel like the moment when i am about to leave and i catch my reflection in a window, recognizing that signature, familial expression of people i know. concozco pues, con la persona soy; la gente soy y yo. concozco pues conmigo misma.

one complete thought per day: i.

In order to practice more often this activity of writing and extending the creative process; i hereby dedicate this first complete thought to my dad, who always has feedback on my writings, and from whom I anticipate more writing poured forth. end of thought.