Dyeing To Try..

Kind and generous Mona

of JarDarMama

has encouraged me to try some

natural dyeing.

I wish that I could put up a link here

for both of her gorgeous blogs,

but it is not happening.

I encourage all to go to her sites.

Mona is a gifted artist, a steward of this earth,

and a loving, generous woman.

Here is my first attempt.

Dyed with Japanese Maple leaves...

I threw some rusty stuff in a big jar,

let it set for a few days, and then put maple leaves

in the jar and stuffed in the "scarfish" piece of cloth.

I thought that the resulting color

would reflect more of the red.

Not...but what a joy to try,

and what a mystery to see at the end.
It is definitely more of a greenish gray,
but still such a lovely color.

Thanks, Mona for your inspiration.

I hope to do some more in the coming weeks.
Thank you, dear Mona
for your encouragement and kindness to me.


best, e.

A Tree Fell In The Forest...

....and I wasn't there.

Minds of a Philosophical and Zen-ish bent

may question whether the tree made a sound,

or whether it existed.

Yesterday I was in those woods.
I took the following pictures
of fading wild flowers,
seed heads,
and bits of Nature that I cannot even
give a name to.

I know the fading lovely Bleeding Heart.
I know the Morning Glory bud.
I well know the Spittle Bug's Spit.
I know the Maple's wings.


Now, I know the Sound of One Hand Clapping.
I have always known the sound of two.
I could very well have been under that tree.
She was old, as I am.
She was ready to go and went
back to Mother Earth who gave her life.
I am definitely not ready,
but it comes to all.
Oh, this sounds depressing.
I do not mean it to be.
As far as I know,
I am just fine and fit
as a (Hush, Shssshsss)
Seventy Year Old.
(damn, there I said it!)


best, e.

p.s  this bit of disclosure about my age has been
difficult. I don't know why, because why should I 
be ashamed to be this age?
I am not ashamed.
I am amazed and very grateful.
I have had a longer life than my parents did,
and for that I have been very sad.
I lost them in my mid thirties.
I do, still feel as if I am twentish,
or on some days six or fifteen, twenty one,
or thirty.
It is only when I pass the mirror.
I wonder who that person is?
I cannot possibly be that woman.
I am still climbing trees and beating the
boys by running faster.
I can still climb the guava tree at home
and get up on the tall roof.
I can still break my older brother's finger
playing football with him.
I can still hop the rocks and dash amongst
the bamboo forest of our Manoa house 
in Hawaii.
Not really, as you know.
Some days, I think the Blogville
belongs to the young.
But then, I hear from you, my dearest readers,
and know that I am so blessed to have met
such beautiful and loving women that you all are.
Some days, I have such problems with computers
and this space.
But, I love it and feel proud that although
I am such a rotary dial girl, never had a lesson on a computer,
 I am doing o.k.
There are so many things I don't know how to do,
but this space and your goodness has been so wonderful.
And all of you who come here
are so very important to me.
With love, e.

Saturday Still Life

Rocker With Dust

Or how to avoid your chores.

It's hot,

at least for here.

Eighty degrees plus.

Maybe that is why

I am reduced to taking pictures

of my rocker.

best, e.

Sometimes...

..the back

is as beautiful as the front.

Wishing all a beautiful weekend.

best, e.

Wonders in the Weeds

It's a splendorours day.

Sunshine, blessed sunshine.

My heart sings.

best, e.

Tilly's Final Chapter...

...I think.

Dear Tilly, I believe

that you are about to leave us.

Reduced to a pitiful puddle,

it may be time to say,

"Farewell, you amazing rosy orb."

Your youthful blush has faded.

I am sad to report that your Bloom is quite gone.

Speed on Little Giant of Hope

and Amazingness.

Sometimes if we are lucky,

it is the small and unexpected surprises

from Mother Nature that give us such pleasure

and a sense of wonder.

Farewell,

Little Atilly the Hun.

You've been grand and fun.

best, e.

To Whom It May Concern

Dear Anonymous,

I am deeply sorry that you believe that I would have

intentionally and violently

killed the dog who killed my chickens.

I did write that I wished I had had

a very large baseball bat.

Would I have used it on the dog?
No.
Would I have yelled and beat the ground with the bat?
Yes.

Was I angry at the dog?
Yes.

Violence, cruelty and intentional retribution

make me physically ill...

especially when it is directed towards

other living creatures.


Some people might find it amusing
to watch me picking worms up off the gravel
and putting them back in the damp earth,
or trying to catch spiders in the house
to let them loose outside. 


Is there anything I don't mind hitting and hurting?
Yes.
Flies.


Am I a saint?
Good grief, No.


Do I ever want to strike out?
Yes.
Do I act on that anger?
No.


I know that you will probably never read this,
but if anyone else does,
who interpreted my words as you did,
perhaps this will make things clearer.


It certainly is a reminder to me
to be more thoughtful in how my words
come together here,
and in how I interpret the words
of others.
That is a good lesson for me
and I thank you....
truly, I do.
I wish you well.