Sunday Notes: Eggs In One Basket



Yesterday we dug up an unproductive tree.
The morning was soft sun on frost. We are chicken-sitting, and the brood followed close enough to keep my ankles warm while I filled the corn hopper.
Came back to the house with six eggs.
We were lazy till after breakfast when the sun warmed up and the ice wind dropped away. Then we tackled the garden jobs, and the tree that only leafs was consigned to the hedge, leaving room for a miniature orchard.
Healthy work: hot bath: glass of wine: sleep.
Today was an early start, and the ice wind had found its way back. We traveled to Bridgewater for Black Belt training, nursing hot coffee from a big silver flask. In two weeks our next Dan grading will be over. I think of this: only two weeks, and its done: so I can ride through the nerves.
Steel yourself, lady, with coffee and time!
I am nervous too about the book. On Tuesday there will be one thousand copies of the Tae Kwon-Do Time Travelling Tour Bus and Other Stories taking over our house, representing precious work and efforts and pushing through comfort zones using all of my savings. Too late to back out, which causes a kind of claustrophobia: one thought uncomfortably close and restrictive:
What if I see it and I don't like it?
How did I carry the eggs back to the house yesterday? Loose in a plastic bowl, one handed, casual. 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

Image
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
Read more

Spring Is Ticking

Image
It has been a while since I wrote a blog post - I have been writing books, and keeping a diary, the days and the work aren’t lost, just ticking quietly in a corner. [There’s a little dust in that corner but the shelf is made of strong oak planks, and the light is enchanting. A plant grows in a pot, it spouts leaves. A half candle stands in a china holder.] At Paddock Garden (properly titled Paddock Garden Orchards, I am a lazy typer) a tree corral has been constructed. It contains persimmons which may not have survived the recent cold blasts and heavy rain, along with some happy pepper trees, bladdernuts, and plum yews. We plan to underplant and interplant extensively in this concentrated area. Around the grounds also we have begun some windbreak hedges, mostly of elaeagnus and hazel. We have a line of sapling native oaks edging the spinney. The first of our camping bay areas is growing emerald grass that was seeded last autumn; the second has recently been seeded; the last three need ...
Read more

September's End

Image
September is all but done. Our fingers are purple from plucking berries, scored by thorns, sore and satisfied. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Through the cold spring, and the soggy summer, we have worked to make this place more and more beautiful. We are charming sustenance from the soil with our toiling; using the present to craft a kinder path- a tree-lined, fruit-bearing way.  And so here we are, in autumn, a time of harvest, glut, and storage. A time to plant trees, a time of festival. Our lives are seasonal, tidal, temperate, held in repetitions that are never the same; variations of repeating patterns, a common uniqueness. How lucky we are, and how grateful! Pollinator friendly saplings added to  the firepit hedge, lower field.
Read more