Hand Made Treasures

We received hand made cards from all the Brownies who came to visit last week. A basket of home made breads and the cards complete with drawings by the girls - it brought me to tears! It was so special seeing their art - I would prefer to post each and every piece, but time and space prevent that - each card showed something different - the horse, sheep, lambs, etc. Some of the cards had little windows that opened up to show animals inside the barn - I will cherish these. We will display them somehow, as our first official art/animal encounter here on the farm. If any of the girls are reading, please knw each card is special to me, each one is unique. Recieving art from children is a precious gift - thank you.

And this is a good segway to remind all of you to enter the raffles! I've extended it one week since my schedule is so hectic next week - so get to the raffle pages which are listed in the sidebar.

It's Friday, that means it's pizza nite. It's 70 degrees. I painted well all week. So it time to work a little this weekend with Sky, work in the garden and just enjoy the first days of warmth.

Gifts in Themselves

Tonight, sun setting, I came upon the neighbor farmer's Percherons, who like to come to the fence line to flirt with Sky. Sweaty fur caked in dirt they had just rolled in, they are magnificant creatures.

"We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and err greatly. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complicated than ours they move finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendor and travail of the earth."

--- Henry Beston, 1928 (The Outermost House)

Breathing is a verb

Life is stuff I do right before I pick up a paint brush, or the thoughts that turn into words between me and friends, that often transpire into actions or new ideas. It's a verb. Love is a verb. Art is a verb. I don't have much interest in pontificating 'what art is'. I read very few blogs anymore. It starts to sound sort of like that Charlie Brown movie, where the adults are always in the background saying 'Wah wah wah'. I once had a fellow artist say she wished I'd complain more on my blog, that my days sound so 'peaceful'. I have many unpeaceful moments, I just don't share them in my blog.

The internet is a connector, and allows me to be make a living in the country on a farm - but it has no breath. I am so lucky I can just step outside and feel and hear breath all around me. I carried a cat around on my shoulder today while I carried hay to the sheep, all the while hearing his purring.

It's always something, isn't it, that keeps us all running around doing, going. The car dies, you run around buying a new one, you get a gallery show and you run around framing things, your teeth hurt so you run around to get extra work done quickly so you can take time out of your schedule to go the dentist. It's easy to get caught up in the wave. But the farm's greatest gift for me is the tug of it all day, it's breath, reminding me to come out, live in it, not for it, but in it.

Guests of Flight

In the last few days, I have been drawn to the birds, especially in my art. How can one not respond to a bird, for it's messages and meanings to humans are so varied. A vision of freedom, a being that appears to be able to...just fly away.





A little bird
Perches on a branch.
A beautiful, golden-feathered
Little bird.

Her eyelids
Are closed in sleep.
She may have beautiful dreams,
Perhaps.

How wonderful to be
A little bird,
To wake up
And fly away.

by Magdalena Klein

So I am going to paint more birds, and trees this week. It seems to be what I need to paint.

I once had a sparrow alight upon my shoulder for a moment, while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance that I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn. Henry David Thoreau (1817 - 1862)

Little Ladies

The Brownies descended on our farm on Saturday, politely, complete with very clean rubber boots, carrots and fig newtons.

I officially have categorized it a 'success'. I am not sure who had a better time, Sky or Pino. While little girls ogled over Sky with carrots and corn, another gaggle of girls doted on Pino - while he had a girl on each side brushing him, others gathered dandelions for his halter, and he was stuffed with carrots and fig newtonsI think he had post-Brownie let down the next day. He greeted me at the morning feeding as if to say, 'But, where are all those little girls?"

We started the 2 hour gathering with the ever anticipated 'lamb holding session". I had separated out my two head ewes, always calm Rosemary and Daisy. Their lambs are also very calm, including little Lambie Sarah Pie who is the one lamb I have been holding a lot. Even Rosie's little ram lamb sat patiently from girl to girl. We talked about sheep teeth, sheep hair, sheep feet, and more. All were well behaved, thanks to thorough parent supervision and pre-gathering instructions by the leader and myself.I was also thrilled to be on the receiving end of left over carrots and girl scout cookies. We'll take it anyway we can get it here.

The day gave me new inspirations for my 501C dreams [don't forget to check out the raffle] done with other age - combining such a session, but then having the girls draw their favorite animals. This could be groups and seniors too. I really like the Brownie age group - they actually still have independent minds but still think we old farts are sort of cool and look up to us. While they may swoon over the Shanjayas of the world, they haven't completely lost their sense of self or esteem once thrown into the abyss of romantic notions, clothes, competition, and...dare I say...boys.

So, all of us at the farm want to say, "Thank you, Brownies - you reminded us of the joy of being 10, the joy of eating cookies surrounded by donkeys, sheep and one grateful horse."

Art Helps

To regular readers, it is clear I also have a love of animals, and have tried to find creative ways to support them. The outpourings of support from people, many strangers to me, is always heartwarming. But rather than just asking people to donate money if they are able, I realize that I have an asset I can give back - art. I feel good that I have donated my originals and usage rights to many animal related causes over the years - most dealing with animals, but also Planned Parenthood and environmental issues. Those are my big three. I get many requests, but I focus on those three, and will continue to.

So I am trying something new - art raffles. Many people would love to own an original, but they are expensive. Most everyone can afford the $10 minimum entry with the possibility of winning an original piece of art, assuming they want and like that piece of art. The money collected will be used for various causes, spelled out on the store buy page. It will always focus on animals, or nature, but mainly animals. This month, I am having two raffles - one to FINALLY begin the legal process of becoming a 501C for my animal work. Originally I was focusing on the ferels, but I want to include animals in general. I want my 501C to educate and teach respect for animals and to share the joy and compassion animals bring to us. Watching a child pet a horse or donkey for the first time - it starts a process for that child about interacting with animals on a respectful level. I also want to work with elderly people and bring my donkey to them, or have outings here. Ever since working with Rose, a 95 year old woman who lived in a home, I have learned the great gifts of this exchange. I would take my pug there weekly - she had a pug in her earlier life- and she got so much out of it. But so did I. One day, we arrived for our visit, and she had died the night before. I was happy for her - she had wanted to die, but said for me and Billy. We have many elderly people visit our open farm days, and they often get emotional seeing the animals, as the animals make them so happy - many of them lived on farms or had animals but now are home bound and can't have pets let alone a horse or equine. When I am old, I hope I die on the land, but if I can't, I ask my guides to please bring me a donkey to touch, or a cat to sit with me, or drive me somewhere so I can once again smell a horse.

My 501C will take effort to set it up - the paper work alone can take months. It will require legal advice, accountants and time. So this initial raffle will help me with that. I have been told to estimate $400-$2000 for set-up costs, hopefully on the lower end. A 501 C will allow donations to be tax deductible, help me with legal issues, and help me get grants someday. I just know Pino Blangiforti and I can make this work, and help others - animals and people. I think I need 3 officers in the organization chart - even the IRS doesn't spell out "And it can't be a donkey".

I am not getting rich on donations, by the way- which awkwardly seems to be an impression of some - perhaps because we live on a 'farm', perhaps because I am an artist..."She MUST have a trust fund to do that"...The money I collected over the past couple years for cat donations was spent 100% on cats. I have never profited financially from any of it. But I want to take my efforts a bit higher and make it a bit more professional, and a 501 C will say that.

So, to help raise funds to start the 501C process [I tentatively call it Donkey Dreams], go to to this raffle page for directions - April 30th is the deadline.

The Buttercup the Cow painting is being raffled
to help support the fight against sub-developments in zoned farmland. Many of you know we and our neighbor farms are fighting just such a case. We've all donated, in time and money, but if you want to help in the fight, especially if you are an Oregonian, please do so. The money will be sent to the the attorney who is representing the neighborhood and the Friends of Yamhill who have coordinated the appeals on this case.
Deadline is April 30th.

"I pray to the birds because they remind me of what I love rather than what I fear...And at the end of my prayers, they teach me how to listen." T.T. Williams

One Less Tooth and Donkeys Teach

Because of so many who participated in the Big Tony Tooth Raffle, Big Tony is now comfortable and eating well and free of possible infection for his bad tooth. The winner is glowing and I wish we could have sent a print to everyone, but that would defeat the purpose of the raffle. Big Tony is busy as we speak sending thank you notes - it could take some time, he is prone to naps.

Because of the many raffle participants, I found this site and person who is helping animals also - only they are equines. You can read about her efforts here, and possibly even support one of the horses in need. Her site also reminded me that one of my goals is to do more of the pet therapy I started in Minneapolis with my dogs - only now I want to share my donkeys with people. Whisper Ranch is also doing this, and finding her site through the raffle was a little poke of a finger for me - don't forget, you want to do this...

If a child who has never touched a horse or donkey comes to our farm, he leaves with that new experience. Young children learn that being gentle with an animal brings rewards to both. The first time feeling of feeding a horse and feeling his whiskers brings some trepidation but then joy, and accomplishment to a child. Touch is a powerful healer. When one is sad, or lonely, petting an animal and standing quietly brings thoughts of comfort. Energy moves, and the comfort brought about from animals is carried away by the child into a home that might not have comfort for him. If an unfocused child learns to walk a donkey and sees how a gentle nudge can move a 200# animal without a fight, perhaps that example is a tiny step in his or her development.

On Saturday, Pino and I will host a troop of Brownies who will learn about the lambs, and bring carrots for the donkeys. In this small way, I can do my pet therapy. But Pino's heart is so full, and since he will live to be possibly 30 or more, we have some time to get our show on the road. Still, life is short. Pie season is upon us. Just yesterday Pino was eyeing the fruit trees, watching for blooms that will bring berries for his pies.

Thou shall not steal...well...

I know one is not supposed to covet thy neighbor's wife or husband, but what about donkeys? Is stealing a baby donkey, say, for one or two days simply to hold it and squeeze it so bad? I would leave a note, I only live a mile away, and I have her brother Pino, bred from the same mother and father donkey. Surely he should meet his little sister and have some relationship with her...

I stole some gum once when I was age five. Actually, I did not steal it - I thought it was free, as I told my mother that it was just right out there on the counter top when my Dad was checking out at our family hardware store. On the same outing, I also took a red dog collar rimmed with fake diamonds which was hanging in a cardboard display at the checkout. My intentions were to give it to our family poodle, so I was perplexed when I was admonished for taking free things and wanting to share with those I loved. My parents sat me down and explained what I did was wrong, and this was a store we went into almost every weekend and we had a relationship with these people. I was very upset, as the red collar suited my poodle so much - red was her color. So they trotted me back there, and my father explained to the owner. It was family run, and the older mother of the clan, grandmotherly, squeezed my cheeks and said 'Oh that's all right honey, take them home with you.' Not exactly what my parents had intended to reinforce the lesson...

So, that memory popped into my head as I had to leave the baby donkey - perhaps if I took her home, and Martyn would say, "Katherine, did they give you the baby donkey?"..."No"...."Did you buy the baby donkey?"..."No"...."You can't take the baby donkey, it is not yours, you must return her."....And then I would return the baby donkey and her human Mom would squeeze my cheeks and say, "It's alright, honey, you take her home with you."

It's comforting knowing she is a mile away. I will someday soon walk Pino Blangiforti up to meet her, and he can visit with his mother Gabriella and father Angelo - who can bray with a whole carrot in his mouth like a cigar. And of course, we will take a home made pie.

Souls with wings

"For scents that herald spring time, For lilac-haunted nooks. For Violet's purple fragrance, And merry, trickling brooks - For little things that give souls wings - I thank thee..." M.Miller].

In the hustle of getting ready for the show, and lambing, I realized today the fruit tree up the road I always love to see come into bloom each spring has already begun to fade. I spent time this morning visiting with the muscari, for they last such a short time. Everyone's shedding, and to see what forms and bodies are underneath is yet another right of spring. Spring is change. The more we resist change, the more chaos we bring into our lives.

Two little birds came yesterday and sat on a table near the studio. They pecked at a young tree still holding on to some old autumn leaves. I guess the leaves aren't quite ready to let go. As the birds left, one tried to sit on the tiny leaf branch, and it fell to the ground. The worms will eat it now.

"Innate Refuge" opening

If you're near the Salem area, stop by the Mary Lou Zeek Gallery in April to see the new "Innate Refuge" show, up from April 3-28th. There will be an artist reception on Wednesday, April 4th from 5-8 and I will be there. Pino Blangiforti was hoping to attend, since he is showcased on the gallery invite - but alas, his travel clothes are not ready, nor is his magic carriage, so he will stay behind with Paco Giovanetti on the farm.

The show is a mix of illustrative and abstract pieces, and the Zeek Gallery is a small,intimate setting; Mary Lou does a wonderful job of showcasing in such a small space. I will post some of the show later and if you have interest in any piece you can contact the gallery.

In the meantime, I start painting for the May Astoria show, and then am really excited to start painting for my abstract exhibit in Jackson Hole in August at the Lyndsay McCandless Contemporary gallery. I'll be showing with a wonderful person and artist, Jenny Kostecki , and can't wait to get into the flow of it next week sometime. More later as it develops.

The sun is here for now, the warmer air has returned, the lambs are growing, the hens are up to 5-6 eggs a day...I sat by the Quince for a short break yesterday and was happy to greet Buzzy and Buzzy 1, hummingbird friends back for the season.

The Spirit of a Girl

Please meet...Lambie Sarah Pie. For those of you who might not have known the original'Lambie Pie', you can read about it it in this recent post. These pictures were taken when Lambie was only 4 hours old, so I think her yawn is not one of boredom, but rather one of exhaustion. The faint red on her ears is mother's blood. She and her brother are healthy, and mother Rosemary, our head ewe, went through it all with the same calmness as past years.

The spirit of a girl name Sarah and her beloved Lambie Pie now live on in this little creature. I generally do not cuddle any of the lambs the first couple days, so as not to possibly confuse scents of exhausted mothers. But last night when I put mothers and babies in their stalls, Lambie Sarah Pie went into the stall, collapsed in a corner, and her little eyes could hardly stay open. Her mother was busy eating, so I picked her up and held her little tiny body, her head resting under my chin and she immediately fell sound asleep. Her body was like that of a stuffed lambie, that once a little girl named Sarah had dragged around and held onto for comfort. I had a momentary 'spark' in my body, a literal energy 'snap', a good feeling - is one ever too old or jaded to hold onto another creature of any kind, hug them, keep them warm, rock them, and sing to them as they doze, very quietly "Keep on rockin' in the free world...". One is never too young to absorb Neil Young.

So, all are born, it's a bit chaotic at morning feedings, but all are healthy. Names and pictures of more to follow in weeks ahead. In the meantime, Big Tony goes in for his tooth operation on Tuesday - he's not nervous, he likes the vet clinic. So there is still time to add your name to the raffle. . And a big toothy 'thanks' to the raffle entrants so far. Pino Blangiforti can't wait to draw the name out of a hat.

Big Tony Tooth Raffle

The millionaire dollar ex-father-to many-now neutered-once-ferel-Tom now needs more vet care. One of his large front fangs was partially broken off and the gum has now become infected. The danger is that eventually the infection will go up his nasal passage and into his insides. Sneezing has told us the infection is already inside him somewhere, but I have had to put off the procedure due to costs for other farm needs - such as the cut tail of Wild Iris the goat that I just could not get to stop bleeding [fixed, thankfully].

So, it must be done and I am having a raffle to collect funds to defray the cost of the vetting [estimated cost of procedure and meds is $220+]. All dona tors donating at least $10 will qualify to win the archival print shown here [7x7" image on 8x10 archival white paper, framed on backing board, glass front, swiss clips - ready to hang, or prop on a shelf, free USA shipping]. This print has a retail value of $70. Note: There is no © sign printed on the actual print. To donate securely online - please click here .

To qualify for the raffle, donations must be received by Friday April 6. I will have Martyn pull a name out of a bag, assisted by Pino Blangiforti, as I feel Pino is perhaps the most honest helper, and he needs to experience new things to prepare for the upcoming pie season. I will stop the donations on April 6th, and if there is an over abundance of donations before that, I will give people the option of having their money returned, or having it put in the Cat Fund for future emergency needs.

Meanwhile, Rosemary and Lilly of the Valley continue to be ladies in waiting - I hope for babies this weekend. They were looking at me longingly this morning, and I urged them to 'Just go for it, girls', hoping that would inspire the baby muses.

Morning kisses, and naps

We have girls.

After the first two boys arrived, Lewsia Pinkie and Coral Bell blessed us with beautiful girls. Twins from each, so we have 6 lambs to date. Rosemary and Lilly remain as ladies in waiting. I have given up saying "I'm sure Rosie is going tonite"...She is usually one of the first to lamb, and right now is huge. Today she is not eating as much in the herd, so, maybe today. The other good news is Lewisia has matured and is being a wonderful mother, after giving up on Baby Rue last spring. Lewisia has a daughter that looks so much like her. She threw two white lambs with freckles - just like their Papa, Mr. T. These are Mr.T's first babies, and he has thrown beauties. The color of Coral Bell's twins is like a slate blue. Lovely. A list of names is prepared, but I'll wait to announce them untill all lambs are born.

Meanwhile, I am getting a lot of painting done, and besides the two spring shows, I just found out I will have another in Jackson Hole in August - I'm thrilled as it will be all abstracts in a contemporary gallery. Details to follow. So I will paint in focused fashion through the summer.


Martyn and I had a nice dinner with nearby farm friends. They are expecting their first baby soon and we are so happy for them. They will be such good parents. As the evening drew to a close, she invited me to feel her baby tummy - I'd never felt a human belly ripe with child. I joke that the only thing I know about birth is learned through my sheep. Fortunately, she raised sheep too, so I don't think it was an insult.The farm was oozing with mothers and baby energy that nite, and continues on this week. It can wipe out any negatve energy that might linger from other things. Thank you, mothers.

No words needed

Refuge, and more boys

Yesterday, I couldn't paint. It was 65 degrees, I had worked on the weekend, and Daisy went into initial labor by 10 am. I knew the routine with her. While I got her in her lambing den and let her be most of the day, I spent a lot of time checking on her, and massaging her upper shoulders which she always likes. She took a long time to really go into high labor, more than her normal anyway. By dinnertime, she was close. An hour later, we checked on her and she was feeding two beautiful, strong lambs one totally black with a sprinkle of white hair on his cap, one totally deep red also with a white cap.

And yes, they are boys. More boys. The black one is already special, strong, and full of personality at age 12 hours. The usual torment will now ensue - which stay, which go. I won't think about it today. There's no point. We will see how they develop. Martyn joked that we run a 'farm for wanted rams'...

Last night we went out after dinner to check on mother and sons, and it was already dark. The stars were summer like, we saw our first bat, and with flashlight in hand, would get glimpses of tiny eyes shooting about in the dark - cats. But then out of the darkness came two long ears, and then two more. As I shined the light I could see Pino about to open his mouth to bray...'Pino, no, don't bray, hush now"...It fell on deaf ears. Out came his bray, and then a cacophony of chicken sounds, and ram bleets. This led to complete misunderstanding of the animals in the other barn. After all, when the donkey brays, it means I am up and about to feed them, and when the rooster crows, it is definitely morning...We checked in on the ewe barn and all was well. Strong, standing ram lambs. This morning, I checked on Daisy a couple times. I had a moment of being concerned their might be one more lamb in her. I have heard of this happening, but never having been through it I don't know how long a third lamb could stay in the ewe. She just seemed to be stretching in ways that seemed like labor, but she lost after birth last night, so I assume it is all over. But maybe it is an unborn lamb in there. She still looked so much bigger than last year. This is why I don't allow the animals to read my blog - it would unsettle them if they new how little I know.

I named the upcoming show at Mary Lou's "Innate Refuge", for that is what my farm is for me. It is where I like being more than any place - which is good, as I rarely venture far. Some would find this stifling, not being able to jump in the car and go away for the weekend. I mean, even with kids you can load them up and take them somewhere - traveling with a couple donkeys, hens, Joe Pye Weed and a blind pug would prove harder. But I think I am better here. I think I am better with animals.

It seems that people feel more comfortable when they can easily 'define' you as a person or artist. Someone told me I do too many things, and it confuses art buyers.
Hmmmmmmm. Is it so confusing when an artist likes to do abstracts one week and chickens and donkeys the next? Neil Young once lashed back at his record company by making a hokey country twang album, because he had presented them an album and they told him it wasn't "Neil Young enough"...hmmmm. Makes one want to go lie under the walnut tree with a donkey. There are many days when I just want to hold my donkey.

Creative happenings

The farm showcases creativity in elegant, simple forms.

The egg. A perfect little package of protein, which also holds the ability to became a real chicken. Who of us can say we can lay some food in a shell, and then make another in 24 hours. I love eggs. It is so satisfying to go out each day and see what the ladies have made for our benefit. Now that they are settled in, they are producing up to 4 per day, which is plenty. I have not determined who is laying what, but some mystery woman is laying almost 1 beautiful,larger brown egg daily. I suspect Zuchi, the frizzle.

Which reminds me, I have named the chickens, twice. I can't seem to quite get the right names yet. Although I have settled on Zuchi [Zuchini] for the Frizzle, Miss Miho [named for a Japanese friend, means beautiful ears of wheat] and Henny [Hens and Chicks] and Jenny [Creeping Jenny]. The rooster is so regal, I just can't get the name right, even though we toyed with Johnny Ringo. Naming everything after plant life has it's challenges.

And every winter the soil cools. In spring, it warms and percolates, and little flowers re-emerge.

The egg and spring flowers - hold onto these visions when you feel life has no meaning. Creation is everywhere, and is always in one form or another.

Shepherdly expectations

The onslaught of lambs is about to begin. I was sure we'd have some births on Sunday night, and even dreamt something about lambs, but all mothers are still in waiting. We spent Sunday outside in the front sheep field, worked on fencing fixes - or should I clarify and say that Martyn redid all of my crooked 'monkey-house' fencing I did a year ago...he even had the nerve to use a string line. The new fence is straight, imagine that.


Rosemary has a lovely goddess belly to me. A field of waddling, goddess bellied sheep - it's heaven. After 2 lambings under my belt, I'm no expert, but I can see the signs - of my sheep anyway. I won't go into details, as it's rather graphic, but novice shepherds may email for the gory details. I'm especially anxious to see what we get from breeding our newer ram, Mr. T. I have been seeing lambies all over the area, and kid goats, calves...it's a wonderful season. Sunday and today the skies cleared, the warm air returned, and you could feel things growing. Smells returned, the frogs were singing.

My day began with seeing Sky in her pasture, staring down Ethel and her two fawns about 20 feet from her. Looking over at the donkey pasture, Pino and Paco, usually up playing tug of war by now, were laying in the sun, dust covered. All the nearby horses that I can see from our property were also laying on the warm earth. It was contagious - after morning chores and work, I took an hour or so to hang out on a warm cement brick with my coffee.

For one whole day, everything was perfectly perfect. No one thing - man made, business related, or financial - could ruin the feeling of this day. I still have it.

Ears and sun for Frankie, pizza for me

It's been raining, continuously,some snow, no sun breaks...dank...Wine weather, as in wine, not whine.

I cheered myself this week by painting animals. Little Frankie [short for Franklinia] deserved a painting, and to cheer us both up I gave her big suns and red toenails. I also gave her back her birth ears [many owners ago, they left her out in the cold and her eartips froze off - they also sawed off her horns, rather than disbudding her properly and humanely][Thank you to our dear goat friend Ruthie for also taking part in this piece vicariously].

Frankie's day is quite simple. Get up, push other goats and rams out of the way so she can be FIRST at the hay bale...Eat, eat, eat, waddle around [she definitely waddles]...and then the best part of her day is spent squeezing under the pasture fence and ending up in the front garden of the 'big house' where she has discovered the muscari and tulips are coming up. Frankie had an eventful time at Sunday's birthday hot dog bash for Martyn - she was chased by one of the 3 year old guests until she decided it was better to hang out with the rams. Things have to be pretty bad before Frankie leaves her favorite area for the ram area. Everyone kept referring to Frankie as "he" and my five year old niece kept announcing to everyone, "Frankie is a girl!!!" [She also refers to the donkeys as 'bunny horses'.]




Frankie is also asked a lot if she is expecting...ah well, when you are 1 foot high and eat all day, one can look quite pregnant at the end of the day....

I am hoping for the warmer weather and sun this weekend. We are on the countdown for lambing. Daisy is about to bust. It's time for CDT shots, my 3rd least favorite thing to do on the farm. I am hoping not to inject myself as much as last year. Meanwhile, there is mud everywhere, including in my hair, and under the pillow. The latter I can't quite explain, but I suspect Big Tony...he has rarely left the fire this week....

In closing, I can only say how excited I am, for it is Friday, and that means it is Apifera Farm Pizza Night - our new tradition of making pizza from scratch, good wine, and the fire...When I was little, I used to get so excited at the end of the school day knowing my mom was making one of my favorite meals - pizza night is like that.

Fox Messages

I sat down to finish what was an abstract piece on paper. As is my habit, I sometimes leave a piece for days, work on something else, come back and then turn the piece around or upside down to get a fresh perspective. I'm not trying to sound like a nut, but often an image, or a faint image of some kind, appears in the piece - like I will see a foot or an eye, etc. A day ago, a very strong vision of an animal head came to me on this piece, and it was clearly a fox. I am not sure why it appeared, but I did some research in my mythology books and the obvious symbolism is that fox is sly and cunning. I am not sure why this vision was so strong, and I won't worry too much about it. But Fox appeared, and I painted. Perhaps he is mischievously applauding me at my cleverness in some recent activity or thought, perhaps he is warning me to secure the chickens every night...Whatever his reasons for appearing, I thank him, as I created this piece, and I love it. It's on the online store now.

Crazy Chicken Lovin' Feelin' Groovy

I am hoping that by posting a plethora of chicken pictures, I will settle down from my chicken high and get back to the three paintings on my desk. Then again, why rush my chicken high, I have waited for so long to have them, and now they are here and I must spend quality time with them. I am probably driving them crazy, and I am constantly going out to check their nests for eggs and say 'hi chickens,cluck,cluck'...My clucks are already quite advanced, if I say so myself, and it is fun to sit and listen to the various sounds and tones they make, and notice the individual personalities and clucks. Each feather is unique it seems, and they give me an endless movie of 'feather color', as the light and sun change, so do their feathers. I am sure within a week or two I will have them out doing more free ranging, as they will know me and my clucks.

Martyn has been very patient with my 'It's talk like a chicken week" game...This morning, he ate the first eggs...what a treat. Thank you chickens...

But really, I must post my pictures and get back to work on my paintings for the upcoming spring shows. And I really do need to sell some art and pay some bills. I will need to paint like crazy today through Friday morning, and then I have much to do, as I am having a little family gathering on Sunday at noon for Martyn's birthday. I am having a hot dog party for his family, and we are also going to play "Put the daisy on the donkey" - with a live donkey of course - Pino is thrilled. It's his first birthday gig of the season. He has also asked if he can also add a local egg delivery route to his home baked pie service. I love the way that donkey thinks and cares about others.

Overcome with chickeness

This morning I got up early and shook Martyn and said very loudly, "CHICKENS!"

At 9am, our new laying hens would be delivered from a nearby chicken farmer. And, um, well...yes, that is a rooster in the picture. Yes, I took a rooster too. I had to. He was too magnificant not to.

Farmer and chickens are all doing well - this brief post at the end of a long day does not do my new chickens justice, but
I had to get a picture up to show all my chicken friends across the world, that now I too have entered the magnificant world of chickeness. They were quite nervous and rattled this morning after being delivered, but are settling in. By mid afternoon, the rooster was crowing. With each crow, Pino brayed - I am not sure if this will continue, but I found it charming, and it made me happy. I have them confined in their ample 250 sf coop, complete with roost condos and ramps. Chicken heaven. As soon as Martyn gets the gate finished tomorrow, they can free range in their confined area. I want them to get use to the new coop as 'home' before I let them free range all over. Everyone seems to think the cat tribe will not be a problem...I am hopeful this is true. Another reason to let them get well adjusted before they get free rein. No names until I get to know them. I hope to get some work done this week in between chicken visit and chicken photo shoots.

As I shut up the coop, I checked the nests and found three eggs. I screamed "Eggs!'. An animal that actually makes food and packages it, all for us to consume. Magical. But I must work on the screaming.

Lambie Pies go one forever

I would like to talk about one little girl named Sarah, the lambie she loved, and the enduring effect one human being has on
the world.

A couple weeks ago, I received an email that grabbed my heart and has had lasting reverberations on me and others. A woman named Meg emailed me, after stumbling on my work thanks to the Illustration Friday interview I participated in. Visiting my blog led her not only to me and my art, but to the animal products over at my Cafe Press site, specifically, some items that had a little face of lamb with the word "lambie." She diplomatically asked me if it was possible for me to create the same little mini buttons, but change the word to "Lambie Pie" - and her reasons were compelling.

She went on to explain that her little sister, Sarah, had died one year earlier while working and studying abroad at the age of 20. Meg and her brother had been best friends and mentors with Sarah all through life, as they were 10 years old when Sarah was born - she shared the family joke that little baby Sarah really had 2 sets of parents, her real Mom and Dad and her older brother and sister. Meg then went on to tell me that when Sarah was born, her brother and her picked out a little lambie for the baby Sarah - and from that day on, Sarah took that lambie everywhere. As Sarah grew into a young girl, and then young adult, she loved to travel and explore, and she always took her lambie with her - a little bit of home and family was always with her. Meg then told me how on Sarah's final voyage abroad, she was talking to Sarah and saying good bye on the phone, and Sarah had for some reason chosen not to take Lambie, or could not fit her in her only backpack - and one of the last things she said to her older sister Meg was, "Hug Lambie for me!". They both laughed, and two weeks later, Sarah fell ill in Africa. Within days she was dead, and she died far away from her family, and Lambie Pie of course.

Well, I was so touched by the way Meg wrote about her sister Sarah - I am perhaps not doing the story justice, as Meg writes beautifully. She wrote about Sarah at length, to give me an idea of her energy and laughter, and spirit. She sounded a bit like me. She decided to go for it, and she went for it straight on her whole 20 years. She was one of those people that left huge marks in one's impression and heart. She had BIG energy, and still does - I felt it.


So, I made some items for Meg with Lambie Pie on them, and Meg will share them with friends and family. Meg continued to write me for the next day with stories about Sarah - she shared many pictures of Sarah in her last year, in her many travels. While Meg's letters were full of light and humor, and good memories, the ache of missing her sister could be viscerally felt in her words. After many emails in 2 days time, I finally had to ask, "Do you have a picture of the real Lambie Pie?"

When I saw this picture of a little baby, knowing a mother, father, and a 10 year old brother and sister were near by, my heart just sort of broke in many bits. It was as if I had lived Sarah's life in reverse. I wanted her to be alive again. I thought about that idea that in a parent's eyes, a child - no matter if they are 20 or 50-is always a child, it's always that little baby with a lambie pie to that parent. I wept - isn't that odd - a total stranger brought me to tears. But that is an important thing to remember for all of us - one person can move mountains, can effect and reverberate long after they are gone. Call it love, call it soul.

And in the next month, we will begin lambing season. And from one of our mama ewes, will come a little girl lambie, and she shall be named "Lambie Sarah Pie".

Life is a smorgasboard I guess

The animals had what is comparable to home made waffles for me - they got fresh bamboo clippings today.I could not capture the excitement of the stampede to the bamboo smorgasboard this morning, but made an effort, all the while Joe Pye Weed kept pushing his body into the fence to block my pictures. Martyn brings home choice prunings by the truckload from certain landscape maintenance jobs he does in Portland. Much of the prunings he creates in people's yards are perfectly good eating, so he brings it home for the animals rather than drive it to the recycling center. With the pastures bare of anything on the line of lush grass or new leaf shoots, the animals get especially giddy over bamboo. The grounds are so bleak - I hope we get some warm air to get the grass growing. We've had nice sunny days, but 40 degree kind of temps and cooler nights, so grass is dormant. Hay prices are through the roof, and there is a shortage in the state, all of the west coast actually, so I just paid a bucket load of money to ensure we'd have a couple tons to get through lambing season and keep Sky healthy.

It's been 2 days of minor animal issues. Like the fact that Mr. T is limping badly, and after finding no rocks in his feet, no long toenails, no bumps on his muscles, I can only surmise he had a kick from someone during eating time. Mr. Plum, one of the barn cats, came to dinner last night with a huge patch of hair gone of his back and a scraping to go with it - a large spot, I at first thought it might be mange, but it isn't, thankfully. Rather, it might have been a raccoon or neighboring Tom...Oddly, the same thing appeared 2 weeks ago on Mr. Tomentosa, and his hair is growing back. Big Tony is getting another chronic ear infection and Lewisia Pinkie, one of the pregnant ewes, is acting oddly. A mother just knows - she is eating, but is standing back from the herd a lot, and makes a sort of sucking sound at times. I hesitated to breed her again after she abandoned a twin last year, but wanted to try her again now that she is slightly older. I worry she might be going through some early labor stuff...Lambing for the herd begins in early March...and as usual, I have begun re-reading my lambing books and freaking myself out on all the horrible things that can, but usually don't, happen in the birth process.

I have had a nice week - full of painting for 2 upcoming Spring shows. I finished a 54" canvas that I am so in love with. I am dying to post it, but want to savor it for myself before I push it out into the real world. And I've been making sachets like thesewhich bring me satisfaction. I'm learning which items seem to sell well or make sense to people. We've learned a lot in two years and I'll build on that his season.

Life is making sense to me. This often wasn't always the case in my 30's. I will be 49 in a month, perhaps this is the tradeoff of gaining a few pounds and adding some wrinkles. I wouldn't go back one year. Each day just makes more sense, has more growth for our farm, leaves me and the world with one more item of art. I still have momentary fits of angst about money - it's a struggle - I kick a few buckets and then get on with it. It's always worked in the past. Today when I woke up, the first thing I saw was the old growth Doug Fir out my window, with some birds in it's bough, singing.

You don't need to know where the butter dish is to be happy

'Chaos' has sort of a negative connotation, yet I can't think of another word, yet, to describe the new set of pieces I am working on and mulling through. Perhaps I will do a few and move on, but right now chaotic lines and colors are being registered by my muse into my hands.

When I lived as a single person, I was able to keep an organized little closet, and kitchen and garage. I wasn't a neat freak, nor did I label my closet drawers like some. But I knew where everything was pretty much, and had control over where something belonged, in order to maintain my sense of order, as I knew it SHOULD be. I had one shovel, one hoe, one rake, and no need for a wheel barrel.

Fast forward ahead....Marry a man. Move to a farm. Organization ceased to exist as I knew it SHOULD be. I now have multiple copies of everything- shovels, spades, hoes, buckets, rakes, ropes, boxes, crates.... I also have 3 wheel barrels: one is blue and is my barn barrel, one is grey and has a flat tire most of the time and is for making cement, one is not worth keeping but Frankie likes to sit in it, as do the cats on a warm day if there is compost in it. I spend a lot of time re-arranging piles of old beams in the barn, piles of fencing, piles of bricks to be used on a someday wall...I rearrange the multitude of buckets, feed bins, recycle cans, nail bins, hoes, axes, electric parts, pieces of metal barn roofing until I have it in somewhat of an orderly arrangement.

Then my husband spends a day on a project in the barn, and re-arranges my arrangements.

As three years have gone by, I have learned that certain chaos on the farm must be accepted. Unless you are Martha Stewart with Martha Stewart's staff, there will always be 'stuff' sitting in the barn. There will always be a burn pile growing, waiting for the right weather to burn it, there will always be old posts and boards around because one always needs old posts and boards here, and there will always be a pile of rocks waiting to be made into something.

At the moment, my husband is in the kitchen demolishing the cupboards. Soon, the windows will need to come out. The flooring is gone. The butter dish is not where it SHOULD be, nor is the silverware, the wine glass or the cat food.

But it's all fine. I did a 48" canvas today, sold a bunch of Etsy stuff, brushed my horse, spent time with my donkeys, and it's only 3:30. I specked windows for the kitchen, did a post office run, and spent a bit of time figuring out new cross fencing for the upcoming lambing season. Many things collide daily here - animals, art, business, life, family - but the trick is to approach this 'chaos' as a treasure hunt. I awake with more anticipation each day than I ever did in my life. There is always something to do here, something new, something challenging, something that will feed me internally like the city couldn't. The trick is to remain calm, but alert, with one's head up, and one's mind open. That way, when you are walking by all the stuff sitting in the barn, you won't really notice it much, rather you will make a mental note of the exceptionally nice blue color in the sky.

Anatomy lessons, and spring fever

I have added 'anatomically correct' rag dolls to my repertoire. I had way to much fun making this raggedy lavender filled creation . Just when I thought I was done, I felt she needed a navel which led to other girlie features. I have memories of beautifully made dolls of my mother's, where the clothes are hand made and even the undergarments are distinctive, so my little farm girl had to have some undies too. Who knows where this will lead. A new Muppet empire, made of farm girls and animals....Anyway, I listed it on the Etsy shop ....Stay posted for more farm friends. I'm pleased that little Goldie the Chicken is off to live in Colorado...

The weather has turned spring like, I'm pleased to say. Just a rise of 15 degrees or so and the animals turn childlike, playing more, the donkeys play tug of war on their dirt mound with their rubber dish, and when I went to feed Sky Flower last nite, her Palomino body was no longer Palomino, but rather a mud caked color which she was quite pleased with. Today I let the 'boys" [Joe Pye Weed, Mr. T, Milkweed,Chickweed, Paco, and Pino] all run out in the area between the two barns. The ram's pasture is helplessly bleak on grass. While the donkeys and goats are quite content with weeds and blackberries, I find the sheep like to eat lower to the ground. Joe Pye Weed has not been looking his best. He has mystery marks on both sides of his body where hair has been 'chewed off', or rubbed off, but excessively. A couple farm friends have seen it, and it is still somewhat of a mystery. Not mange. Not lice. I've tried tea tree oil, and this week I'm putting Destin on him- a diaper rash solution of cod liver oil that does wonders for a variety of skin rashes I find, plus it's smelly so if an animal is chewing him, it might help. I haven't seen any animal chewing on him, and actually, we doubt this is the case, as the mystery shedding started back when he was confined on his own. It might be him nervously chewing himself, but I never see it.

I am getting excited for March lambing. Daisy already looks big, and I really hope she is not carrying triplets. I have started re-reading my sheep books, and it is time for my 'read all the worst case scenarios of lambing incidences and freak the shepherd out' - which is turning into an annual ritual around February.Perhaps this is why I doodled these little odd creatures this week - part lamb/part me/part fairy?...I framed them and put them on Etsy too.

As I awoke this morning, Billy the pug came into the bed with me. He likes to get under the covers in the morning, and snuggle his face into my armpit as I hold him. He has done this since he was 8 weeks old, when I use to carry him in my overall pocket [he weighed 1.3 pounds when I got him]. Huck came running in and smashed his 5 pound wet nose in mine, another morning ritual - and it came to me that dogs are so consistent. They are unlike children. Dogs are born and are puppies for about 1-2 years, then they are who they are. They have personalities unique to themselves, but each day, you can count on your dog to be consistently who he/she is. They never let you down on that. Billy will never reach an age [he's 8] where he says, "You know, Mom, I'm thinking it's too girly to snuggle with you in bed, so I better not." And Huck will never cease to run in to the bedroom each morning to greet me and the day with incredible gusto. It is good to have certain beings in one's life who never let you down.

Sewing messes and a quiet donkey

To hopefully satisfy my sewing hankerings, I have opened an Etsy shop. I am going to be making lavender items and will be putting them mainly on the Etsy store rather than my own art store. Not to complicate my loyal shoppers, but the traffic on Etsy is growing, and I hope it will work in our farm's favor. There are so many talented knitters, sewers, crafts people at Etsy that I almost cringe to put my messy little monkey house creations on, but it's the love and energy that go into these things that means something. The people on the site are so helpful and encouraging, which is nice. I really encourage you to visit there.

I am working at developing more of the dryer bag/sachets with our lavender bud, in my style, that aren't counter productive to my time, energy and budget. The dryer bag is the best selling bud product, I think because it is easy to understand and is simple and not all fluffy like many of the sachets out there - girly girl isn't usually in my wardrobe. I hand sew them all which I enjoy, but I have lofty goals for our lavender empire, so the possibility of working with some contract sewers is hopefully a future reality. And also increasing my one-of-a-kind lavender stuffed raggedy doll objects...yes, more donkeys are on the horizon.

So visit Etsy, and keep visiting, often, as I will be making new things all the time. I will always maintain my art store site for the majority of my art work, but will post some art at Etsy - I'm just not sure the price point will do well there, we'll see. Feel free to email me and give me your thoughts on my Etsy shop.

Today, the weather is warming, enough to hopefully keep the black ice away that has socked the whole state in. We have had to carry buckets of warm water to all the pastures for the animals, and we are encouraged by the weather. The cold, combined with the state's hay storage, is making for a harder winter. Pino has not brayed since we returned on Monday, and I am somewhat concerned he is not feeling well. I have spent each morning hugging his belly longer than usual, and making sure he is getting his hay ration. Paco has also been buddying up to me a lot, which is not like him, and I think he is finally settling into the herd.

And in honor of the passing of a great writer and man, I am calling all the animals "Art" for one day. Art Buchwald, he was a good one. I'm sure he is bringing laughter wherever he is.

Home

Traveling away from one's daily environment and routine brings a fresh perspective and outlook on things. I am a notorious homebody. I'm happy here surrounded by things and chores and rituals that I have chosen to bring into my life for meaning and happiness. Every now and then, I need to be dragged away, to remind myself there is energy and life all over, not just in my little realm.

So we took 7 days and flew to my old homeland of Minneapolis to visit my parents, celebrate my mother's 81st birthday, and see old friends. Leaving a house with a couple of dogs had a certain amount of preparation, but leaving a farm of pregnant ewes, and other creatures in the middle of winter has unique challenges. We were fortunate to have probably the best and most reliable and loving person take care of our animals while we were away - the birth mother of Pino Blangiforti. As if her huge heart and animal sense weren't good enough, her husband is the founding vet in town where we vet our cats and dogs. I had absolutely no fears about the animals being cared for properly. Still, the days leading up to the trip had me anxious: "Will they think that I have just left them? Will Miss Pussytoes the cat get enough to eat if I'm not there to place her food in a corner of the hay bale away from the more bossy cats?" My over the top imagination imagined the worst of the worst, until finally, we were on the plane. Once on the plane, I was fine, but I did ask God to get everyone on the plane safely to their destinations, and get me and Martyn back home to Huck and Billy and everyone else. The pilot was standing at the cockpit door, and he had this really nice smile, he was about 60, and I thought how if something horrible happened in mid air, I was sure he would get us out of it safely. As I sat and did my crossword puzzle, one of the clues was "donkey" - I was sure it was Pino reaching out to me...

This is why it is better for me to stay in my little realm...Air travel makes my creative energy turn to death and all the things I want to do and make and paint. Eventually, I slap myself in the side of the head and join the masses of living.

However, as I stated initially, travel also brings huge leaps of inspiration. Sitting in the plane, looking down on the land patterns reminded me of my paintings. And some new ideas formed in my head for future pieces. We spent a good deal of time at the Art Institute and I was especially inspired by an exhibit there on abstract drawings by various painters. We had a wonderful meal of catfish and sauerkraut prepared by fellow artist Heinz , sitting on cushions in front of the fire, with his huge and wonderful cat Blue Boy sitting near by- a painting if there ever was one - and we played a lot of great music and shared stories of everything from families, art, and politics. We ate like pigs, and drank well. We were also able to visit at a fellow fellow shepherd's home which was much fun. We caught up with family and old friends and slept late in the morning. I coveted my parent's nice shower and their DSL line.

The city had changed, or increased on the same onward and upward path it had been on when I left 4 years ago. It looked good, exciting, vibrant, energized. It was a nice time and I'm glad we could go. But like they say, it was nice to get there, but also nice to come home. We left on a cold, sunny day. A new snow had blanketed the highways, and we got a ride to the airport from two of my dearest friends, who picked us up with their Bloodhound - my friend and I sat cuddled together as the bloodhound took up the back seat, it was fun. It was a nice way to ride to the airport, all cozy with good friends and a 100# animal. Home was close now.

Flying in over the mountains, seeing Mt. Hood, Ranier and St. Helens, being able to recognize the city areas from the plane, seeing the farm land near the city, it felt like home. The airport seemed so quiet compared to the huge Minneapolis airport, and we easily made our way to the tram to take us to our parked car in the Red G lot, which we remembered by saying 'Red Goat' as a reminder. As we drove the hour to get to the vet to pick up Huck, Billy and Big Tony from boarding, I was excited to see them. Huck road in the back seat with his head leaning on my shoulder the whole time. As we drove up the driveway, the house was there, the trees were all standing, and my little realm was just fine. Our animal caretaker had left us a basket of fruit and delicious homemade coffee cake - still warm. That was nice.

I didn't venture out to see the barn animals that nite, as the caretaker had fed them all, and I didn't want to disturb their sleeping. But when I awoke, to a dusting of snow, I jumped out of bed. It was like Christmas. I went to the barn and greeted everyone. They were all safe, and well fed, and happy. So was I.

D is for dust

D is a good strong letter. The last name Dunn sounds good as a last name, especially with the multiple syllable name Katherine. I also like the word 'donkey'. Some words are just great words, sounding wise.

If I am not making sense it is because I have dust in my head, lungs and nose. The dust came from ripping up flooring in our kitchen. For two years we have been planning, re-planning, altering plans, giving up, and starting all over again on our kitchen. Hopelessly outdated, and not in a charming way, our kitchen suffered from 1970's bad country style, and to be blunt, a lot of crappy material. I primed all the cupboards when we moved in, just to lighten up the fake looking oak veneer. That was about it. I mean the place had fluorescent lighting...I look yellow much of the day. The cupboards are rotten in areas from leaking drains, the wiring is outdated and dangerous, the flooring was put in over too many layers of other crap so not to be level, and to top it off, they added the wonderful piece -de- resistance of fake brick siding in places.

We spent all weekend over the holidays planning, determined to make a real stick with it plan. And we did. We thought we'd wait until May to begin. But Martyn awoke Saturday and announced casually, "I'm going to rip the floor out, and that wall. So we did. It was marvelous. Hard work, but there is nothing like getting rid of old crap. This house had virgin fir floor boards under bad carpet and two layers of bad linoleum. Surprises any home owner lives for.

It was also good therapy for me. I have been doing quite a bit of letter writing and work on the sub development that has been tentatively given county "preliminary-approval". It is being appealed to the next level, and I have no doubts it will go to the State Court of Appeals. I can't go into more details right now. I go back and forth about writing in detail about this whole thing here- I started my blog with the purpose of sharing stories about my farm, my animals and my art, and the mix of all three. Writing appeal letters and spending time on this whole thing is so draining. It upsets me, it unbalances me, but it is a fight I feel I must put energy into. But for now, I want my blog to be a haven from it, for my sake, selfishly. With the new state legislature now in session, and Democratic majority, we are hoping to get some changes to the original pro-development Measure 37 law that so many voted for without understanding what they were voting for. I have hope that it will make a difference for many sad cases around the county, and hopefully on our road too. We and the neighborhood are not giving up.

So, a new kitchen is on the horizon. With a new layout, and refurbished cabinets, a pantry I don't have to get down on my creaky knees with a flashlight to discover what food I have, mouse proof drawers, new lighting so we won't look jaundice like - and the laundry will be incorporated into it so I don't have to squeeze myself into the basement to do clothes. It will take months, and in between we'll have some lambs and fix some fences and weed lavender and make some art.

Poodle period continues, and more

Some new things over on the store. My poodle period continues and the final two pieces of that threesome are now available [the first one sold already].

I've also added a section called On Paper. This section will sell pieces that are created traditionally by painting and drawing layers that are then assembled on the scanner as collages - hence the only original is the digital original. This is often how I create my illustrations. They are printed on archival paper with archival inks. I do not intend to pull large quantities of these, but will hand pull and inspect each print as they are ordered. I have decided to only offer work that is created in this way as prints - in other words, I do not intend, at this time, to take an my original paintings on canvas and reproduce them as archives. These pieces in the "On Paper" section will not be offered for sale anywhere else. The colors and quality are like a silkscreen, just fabulous.

Blue skies predicted

New year, new ideas, new art, new experiences. I love the new year. The week between Christmas and New Year's usually finds me cleaning the studio, reorganizing desks and sock drawers and shuffling things about. Preparing....it is a time of hope, always, for me. I am always relieved to see the actual holiday season over, as I would rather be working , and I would rather know other people are out there doing their prospective lives work. Life's to short to flutter around. If you are doing your life's work, the work is always full of flutter, I feel. We had a nice quiet Christmas, with a donkey walk to deliver lavender to neighbors. A nice day alone together. Quiet. Good meal, good wine.

While tonite is New Year's Eve, my favorite night to stay inside, last night we went to a lovely little get together at the nearby home of the people that bred Pino and still raise donkeys. It was good food, good conversation and just a nice time. It was really fun meeting some other couple, like minded in many ways, who live around here. Perhaps the best part of the night was reminiscing with the host and others about old concerts we had all been to in the late 60's and early 70's. I was only 10 in '68, but our friends were 17-20, and they had seen Jimi Hendrix live. I felt like bowing down on my knees. One woman had seen the Beatles, and she said they were tiny dots on the stage, and all around little girls were screaming and fainting, and the music could not be heard. We laughed about drugs and rock and roll. I am so glad I got to live in those times at the age I was.

We talked about generators, pump issues, difficulties of fencing for buffalo, the difference between goats and sheep, and how to get rid of mange and what to apply to a goats teats when they had been abrased by milking. There were cats looking in from the wrap around porch, sneaking in from time to time, a couple toddlers plodding around, laughter, twinkling lites, good smells, and intelligent, educated young adults who are just beginning their journeys in their lives. One young woman was studying acting in NYC and lived near my old Brooklyn neighborhood. She relayed how wonderful it is too live in NYC, and told me about her acting teacher and classes. She was full of spirit and optimism that made her beautiful. Some day she will attend a party and stand in slightly older mid life shoes. She will listen and look intently at the beautiful skin of the younger person who is talking, and be energized by her spirit, and she will think of herself many years earlier. She won't feel regretful, she will just make a mental note of it, "My, life is grand, but how did I get here so fast?"

It was one of those homes that when you are there, it invites you to come in, and invites you to stay a bit longer. Warm spirits reside there. I slept so peacefully last night.

The dog knows

All week I had intended to write some kind of Christmas story with heartfelt messages of peace and kindness, but was busy with many things. Today I was able to free myself of the lavender orders, computer work and holiday details to give myself the freedom to just draw. I started out with the simple exercise of drawing a profile, and ended up with this , after covering the paper at least 5 times with black gesso. I like this drawing, and I am not sure why. I had a standard poodle when growing up, and my brother had a wonderful black standard for many years who I adored, but I certainly didn't sit down and think about them consciously today. After a couple hours, I rested with this one, and knew I was done covering it up once more with black gesso. I added the small piece of paper that says 'the dog knows', and hand sewed it onto the watercolor paper. What does the dog know? I don't know what it means. But I decided after looking at it over time today, that this piece was meant to be my Christmas story to you. I guess some time down the road I might know what the words to this story are, but for now, all you that read this blog can look at it and write your own Christmas meaning into the drawing.

On Christmas day, Martyn and I will take time to deliver some lavender bundles to nearby houses, via donkey. We walked them on Thanksgiving Day as a new tradition, and I thought Christmas is a wonderful day to take your donkey out to bring gifts to a few people. I have some bells I'll add to Pino's halter and red ribbon for Paco. We are going to prepare a leg of lamb from our own sheep, and serve it with vegetables and...something. My mother is sending me some of her home baked cookies so a little bit of my parents will be with me. I miss them.

Enjoy the story you tell yourself when you look at this drawing, and share it with others if you care to. And from all of us at Apifera, we hope you, your families and your animals can find peace in your own hearts so you can share it with all you encounter.

I'd like to thank the electricity

I feel almost torn about putting up a post, showing I have electricity again, while many in our area do not. The wind storm that came through last Thursday night was powerful, beautiful in ways, but deadly and serious. Most of Oregon and Washington were without power - and the national news is not reporting it, but many of the rural areas are still without it.

So, you get the candles out, and the storm is almost exciting at that point. The candles are pretty and it's a good excuse to sit and sip wine - which is what we did. Martyn cooked pasta by candlelight. But the wind gusts were scary. I feared for the barn roof and our windows getting broken. Going out the next day showed tree tops snapped at the top, signs bent in two and electric fencing strewn about pastures.

I had an appointment with the dogs at the vet, and they too were without power. Without lights, we got the dogs out by the window light and did all their shots and Huck was thrilled with the party like atmosphere. I decided I better get bags of ice for the freezer - I was not going to lose 2 lambs worth of meat. Every where I went I heard of trees in houses, near death escapes from falling trees and cars ruined. Barn roofs ripped off. I knew we would be without for some time, and once you resign yourself to that, you get on with it.

My laptop is a lemon and I've never replaced it, so I started panicking about not being able to pick up email and answer any online sales. But at some point, you just give up the struggle. At the same time we were without power, there were three climbers fighting for their lives on Mt. Hood, and my predicament seemed silly compared to theirs. We could still cook, the animals had ample water in their troughs from heavy rains, and we had the stove for heat. Martyn decided we should be relieving ourselves outside since our well doesn't work without power. I thought it was sort of silly, but agreed, and when I made my first trip out, Little Orange and Plum rushed to greet me as I did my business. I must say, doing your business under stars and crisp air, amongst a group of cats did make me feel like part of the group. By morning it was about 45 in the house. A tad nippy. The power came on about 10 am - we rushed around doing all the things you desperately missed, and now so appreciated. Warm water, the electric toothbrush, washing the dishes, coffee. I kept saying over and over, a little thank you. When we sat down to relax come nitefall, ready for some movies and wine, a nice dinner, out went the lights again. Crueler the second time! At that point, I allowed myself to actually believe I was the center of the universe and started whining, pretty much for the rest of the nite. I blamed it all on over population and deemed I would take the donkeys and go live somewhere else. I announced the power was gone forever, really forever, and decided I was better off in bed.

Without power, life does slow down to some extent. But it also makes one remember just how hard basic survival is in the world. Getting water, making it drinkable, staying warm, feeding yourself, family and pets. That's about it. But without power, that can often consume the day. As I was cleaning the barn in the dimness, I thought how the animals go on with the day and night like they always do, with or without power. Their day is clocked by sun and moon. Their day is always about being themselves without man made things - without whining. Like the baby owl near the barn at dusk.