Rainbows


Indian Lore, Celebrate Earth Day a day late.

There was an old lady, from the Cree tribe, named Eyes of Fire, who prophesied that one day, because of the (man’s) Yo-ne-gis’ greed, there would come a time, when the fish would die in the streams, the birds would fall from the air, the waters would be blackened, and the trees would no longer be.

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There would come a time when the “keepers of the legend, stories, culture rituals, and myths, and all the ancient customs” would be needed to restore us to health. They would be mankinds’ key to survival, they were the “Warriors of the Rainbow”.

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All the peoples would form a new world of justice, peace, freedom and recognition. The Warriors of the Rainbow would teach them how to live the “Way of the Great Spirit”.

They would tell them why our earth is sick, they would show the peoples that this (the Great Spirit), is full of love and understanding, and teach them how to make the Earth or “Elohi” beautiful again. They would teach of Harmony among people in all four corners of the Earth.

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Once again, they would be able to feel joy in solitude and in councils. They would be free of petty jealousies and love all mankind as their brothers, regardless of color, race or religion. They would feel happiness enter their hearts, and become as one with the entire human race. Their hearts would be pure and radiate warmth, understanding and respect for all mankind, Nature, and the Great Spirit.

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They would once again fill their minds, hearts, souls, and deeds with the purest of thoughts. They would seek the beauty of the Master of Life — the Great Spirit! They would find strength and beauty and the solitudes of life. Their children would once again be able to run free and enjoy the treasures of nature.

The rivers would again run clear, the forests be abundant and beautiful, the animals and birds would be replenished. The powers of the plants and animals would again be respected and conservation of all that is beautiful would become a way of life.

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The poor, sick and needy would be cared for by their brothers and sisters of the Earth. These practices would again become a part of their daily lives. The leaders of the people would be chosen in the old way ~ by those whose actions spoke the loudest. Those who demonstrated their love, wisdom, and courage and those who showed that they could and did work for the good of all, would be chosen as the leaders or Chiefs.

They would be chosen by their “quality” and not the amount of money they had obtained. Like the thoughtful and devoted “Ancient Chiefs”, they would understand the people with love, and see that their young were educated with the love and wisdom of their surroundings.

They would show them that miracles can be accomplished to heal this world of its ills, and restore it to health and beauty. The tasks of these “Warriors of the Rainbow” are many and great.

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There will be terrifying mountains of ignorance to conquer and they shall find prejudice and hatred. They must be dedicated, unwavering in their strength, and strong of heart. They will find willing hearts and minds that will follow them on this road of returning earth to beauty.

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It will be with this knowledge that we shall find our “Key to our Survival”.

Be well,

Jess

It’s a Grey Day…


A grey day with a beautiful soft rain, a day to be productive ~ indoors. Reluctantly.

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Today’s rain is the perfect kind, tiny fine droplets, causing everything it touches to be canopied with gossamer mist.

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Earlier in the morning, I stood filling the coffee pot , gazing out at the garden. A chubby robin sat perched upon the grape arbor. He shook himself to be free of the moisture and he was surrounded by droplets larger than were falling from the sky. I wish I had my camera in hand.

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The peas are in the garden*; it’s a perfectly timed rain.

I’ll add more Chard and Spinach this afternoon, and the lettuces tomorrow, they like the cooler weather.

*If the thunder-storm in the early hours of the morning didn’t wash them away, that is.

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The dogs are sleeping in the kitchen, soaking in the silence.

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I better be moving on, I have dresses to be altered and pants to be hemmed.

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Be well, enjoy your day.

Jess

 

 

Still waters…


Have you ever noticed, it can appear some are floating on life’s river.

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Yet, upon a closer look they are only appear still…

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Is it so bad to be still?

Is it so bad not to be actively chasing?

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Chasing careers, chasing financial success, chasing recognition, chasing bigger, chasing better; only to catch it to find it not enough.

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Can a successful life be one with out notoriety or fame?

Can we still quietly achieve, not announcing every achievement  to the world?

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Maybe this holds my smoldering distain for social media, where every undertaking is announced, every exploit a plea for approval.

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It is ok to be.

Can you know you matter.

Recognition is a basic human need, I know this.

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But is this need now on steroids? Has this need become more demanding?

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My thoughts offer more questions than answers.

Can success be contentment?

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It is okay to stop paddling so hard; it is okay to savor what you have achieved.

To listen. To feel. To enjoy. To savor.

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Attend to where l your heart takes you next.

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There may be contentment in still waters.

Be well,

Jess

Counting Sheep…


As per the norm, it is 3 am; I lie awake in a silent house. Well, nearly silent; my dogs are snoring and the rain is falling gently on the roof. As soothing as that sounds (ahem), I can not fall asleep.

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I finish a few gardening articles on web, then cruise on over to check on the weather; perhaps I can do bit more out of doors tomorrow. Tornado warnings flashing across my screen, instantly questioning my choice of reading material. Like a driver gawking at an accident, I delve in…from Texas to Thunder Bay. Now that I’m actively worrying about half of the US what will a few more words and pictures hurt, I ask myself.

Oh, silly girl. You should have counted sheep.

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I should check in on Cecelia, she is near Chicago, you know.  I’ll go to her Facebook page. Because of course during a Tornado, she will head straight to Facebook – ‘cuz that’s what you do to prepare for the sort of thing ?!

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This is just the sort of thing a brain does in the early hours of the morning ~ construe nonsense.

Then I see storms in Texas, Shannon and her beautiful family…

All the away up to Michigan, is Karen ok, and her llamas?

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Yeah, I feel ready to sleep now!

The rain continues to fall.

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Maybe I will just just count sheep.

Howie’s alarm is about to go off, good night.

Be well,
Jess

It’s Spring, Let’s clean.


The gardens of course. You didn’t think I was dusting, did you? ( I clean a bit every day, so no big spring clean for me.)

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Back to the task at hand. The gardens. (How quickly I am diverted). March weather was so fickle and was terribly miserable here in Upstate, NY. Not much could be done to tidy the garden, really it was mostly covered in snow until the last week end in March. No telling what havoc Old Man Winter has wreaked ’til the snow is gone.

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I have to resist, there is temptation to pull back the mulch protecting fragile plantings, eager to see any sign of new growth. The mulch, the protector, I so carefully lay before the frost, gives shelter from sudden changes of temperature and chilling winds, keeping cozy this fragile growth. It’s still winter here, essentially. The ground was white this morning. (If I quietly turn away, maybe it will take its leave.)

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(I thought of finding a more attractive picture, but this is really how it looks – ugly. Let’s keep it real)

Tempering myself, I’ll slowly remove the mulch as the days and weeks become steadily warmer,
I tell myself, it is much better to remove the mulch a little later than to remove it to early. I try to hurry Mother Nature, to no avail. I love Spring anyway.

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Don’t forget to clean out your birdhouses early before the birds begin nesting again. I haven’t seen the bluebirds yet, but others have.

While it will be awhile before the season of blooms arrive, my garden list is readied for season.  I can’t plant  during this early spring, (I haven’t even been able to get peas in the ground); I bide my time.

Maybe this weekend there will be enough of a thaw.

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Finn Remembers.

The frost line was very deep this year. Even inhibiting maple production) there are some chores I’ll do to get it in shape before the real gardening begins.

Give my old clay pots a wash; a good scrub using a solution of baking soda and water.
I’ll clean around and map out the area for new garden beds. (that may be a good job for the girls, they live for this sort of thing. Don’t you Simone?)

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Don’t let this photo fool you, they really wanna help.

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This is how they work, great team aren’t they?

While I’m at it, I should try to remember where I planted spring bulbs. Do you remember? You were there, weren’t you? If you remember, please share; I wouldn’t want to dig them up.

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I don’t think they were paying attention. Chickens can be like that you know.

Alternating thawing and freezing can tear plant roots and even force the plant right out of the ground. If I notice any plants that have heaved, I push them back right back where they belong – into the soil, and pack the soil lightly with my foot.

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Ooh we can’t wait for green, Revie and I. Of course, she’ll be more interested in nibbling than helping. But, who can blame her.

As soon as I see new growth,  I’ll divide and transplant summer blooming perennials and fertilize (with llama beans) the plants in there forever beds.

Is there a forever in gardens, nah, let’s just move on.

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Spinach, Chard, Cabbage, Cauliflower, and other hardy vegetables will be started from seed late in the month. Lord willing and the creek don’t rise.

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Well, come on girls, we have work to do.  Hey, wait; where are you going? Girls? Girls?

Be well,

Jess

Things I know…


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If I must admit it; I am but a creative soul who may be hard to understand, impossible to second-guess, and known to follow the voice of instinct that no-one else can hear…not to mention understand.
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My life can not be torn  from the pages of a story book, it is much more complex than that. I am a tear stained, giggle filled , tragically heartbroken, happily ever-after. To put the words of my life on paper would draw pause and speculation; can this truly be?
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I am.
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I am that girl who believes in guardian angels, magic, hard work, tenacity, and family.
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I believe in love, the Lord,forever friends, and miracles.
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I know that no life is easy and that the past is the past.

I know that working for something makes it worth having.

I know that nothing is free and everything is complicated.

Time is precious, and money should not rule all.
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Love and trust must be earned, and that honesty is essential.

Change is the only constant.

I know too much is never enough, hope is eternal, happiness is relative to your thoughts.

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People should be loved for who they are.

Confidence is fragile. Quitting is not an option, but you must know when it is over.

Contentment is the ultimate goal.
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I know that to really appreciate the good times you must trudge through the horrible.

I know my strengths and my weaknesses.

I know I can not live a scripted life, I am far too much of a wanderer of spirit. Always seeking.

I am me. I can. I will. End of story.

Be well.

Jess

It’s April, who’s Fooling whom?


This is what April [usually] looks like on our little cottage farm. Do you suppose Mother Nature plays April fools jokes? I’d like to think she has a sense of humor.

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How this place we call home looks today?

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They are too discomfited to allow for company. You do understand, don’t you?

Perhaps the chooks will let us visit?

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Uhm, guess not, they choose to not even show their faces.

The goats are happy go-lucky, let’s ask Shelby for a visit.

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Oh, Okay. We get the message, we’ll visit another day.

Be well, and take the light of the Lord with you wherever you go.

Jess