Tag Archives: home

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Daily normal

This is normal during the Great Port Townsend Bay Kinetic Sculpture Race. Feathers, headgear, human powered land, water and mudbog machines, as well as Kinetic Kops and bribery of the judges. All trying to be Most Mediocre.

Not whacky, nope.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: whacky.

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Tulips

Yesterday I pick up my Community Supported Agriculture box from Reddog Farm. The box was ready on Wednesday but I forgot! I thought it started next week! At the beginning of the season, the box contains tulips. Though the tulips are not in the box. There is a sign: choose five tulips from the cooler. I love the tulips!

I love my CSA too. I have been in a CSA for all but two of the last 23 years. The first one was Collingwood Farms. My children loved the potatoes. They would look at me with sad sad eyes and say “These aren’t Collingwood potatoes!” when I would substitute ones from the grocery store. I could tell too. The local potatoes are much sweeter and more delicious.

A friend came with me to get my box and then we had sauteed leeks and kale at lunch. And Elwha likes to help with photographs.

We are blessed with choices of a variety of CSAs. They come to the Farmer’s Market, which also started last Saturday. I missed the goat parade, but went a little later and it was packed with people and produce. Hooray for the local farms and all the people supporting them in different ways.

For Cee’s Flower of the Day.

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Sometimes wise

Sometimes the wisest thing to do
is to refuse to watch the news
to go for a walk alone
and then go quietly home

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: wise.

Quieting the sympathetic fight or flight state to the parasympathetic relaxed state: http://www.wisebrain.org/ParasympatheticNS.pdf.

This is one of the pieces Rainshadow Chorale is working on:

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Daily Evil: B is for Brag

Ooooo, B is for Brag. I can brag about my mother artist AND I got to do work with her. In the 1980s I ask if I can write poems that she will do etchings to illustrate them. She had done a series with a friend when I was a baby. I was jealous and wanted her to illustrate mine.

“Yes, BUT,” she replies, “The poems have to rhyme. I don’t like free verse.”

I laugh, because the man she did etchings and poems with before did all free verse.

This was right after I had finished college and wanted to write, but was certainly rather terrified about submitting anything. My degree was in Zoology and Scandinavian Studies, so I did not exactly have the writing connections.

I sent my mother ten poems, all rhyming. One was written with a finished etching in mind, but she did etchings for the rest. Almost all are about animals.

She had a friend who runs the Lead and Bread Press print 50 of each poem on etching paper and then started running the editions. We had a gallery opening together in the 1980s in Alexandria, Virginia. This did not make me rich but it certainly made me pleased and proud. Bragging rights are mine. The prints and poems are in a book as well, of women sibling artists. We got in even though we were mother-daughter rather than siblings.