tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89336713304765759812024-02-19T18:33:20.412-08:00she sings her soulpearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.comBlogger415125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-65402654124152367172013-02-11T22:12:00.000-08:002013-02-24T22:13:12.601-08:00prelude: Ash Wednesday<i>I have apologized more times than one</i><br />
<i> have paid my dues to the thistle and the thorn</i><br />
<i>and many times have I thought,</i><br />
<i> this flame is enough!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>have faced my own wickedness with something akin to despair</i><br />
<i>or, </i><br />
<i> infinitely more cowardly, </i><br />
<i> refused to face it</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Yet I will fathom the depths of my aggression,</i><br />
<i> my heartbreak and longing, my entitlement and greed</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i> and turn, turn</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Turn to You </i><br />
<i>Turn into your face, your gaze, your solid chest</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Turn to cry, 'Change me!' </i><br />
<i>'Leave me not alone!'</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>O you who pulled me from the pit,</i><br />
<i>who breathed,</i><br />
<i>and your breath dispersed my darkness:</i><br />
<i> do not forget me</i><br />
<i> and do not pass me by!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I recognize (though I hardly understand)</i><br />
<i></i><i>I am ashes and dust</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>But you come, </i><br />
<i>you invite</i><br />
<i>your warmth, </i><br />
<i>your eyes</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Lord Jesus Christ, </i><br />
<i> I receive you </i><br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>into my twisted heart.</i>pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-47010666089072730122013-02-07T23:13:00.000-08:002013-02-24T22:14:14.997-08:00inspiration<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="300" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/45164872?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">See all photos <a href="http://www.spelldesigns.com/inspiration/spell-dougalls-wedding/" target="_blank">here</a>. </span>pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-9424591474007315322013-01-31T21:48:00.000-08:002013-02-24T22:16:29.610-08:00winter cooking<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.blenderbabes.com/wp-content/uploads/matt-green-smoothie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="http://www.blenderbabes.com/wp-content/uploads/matt-green-smoothie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Smoothies</b>: bananas, spinach, kale, fruit, chard, almond milk, flaxseed, ice</li>
<li>Savory <b>zucchini bread</b> with Moroccan spices</li>
<li>Cabbage-fennel <b>soup</b> with roasted garlic chips</li>
<li>Zucchini <b>frittata </b>with chilis</li>
<li>Pumpkin-cauliflower <b>soup</b></li>
<li><b></b>White wine curry <b>squash soup</b></li>
<li><b></b>Raw <b>kale salad</b> with sesame dressing</li>
<li>Mozzarella <b>chard salad</b></li>
<li><b></b>Red wine vinegar black <b>bean dip</b></li>
</ul>
<br />
pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-90577303234955588782013-01-17T23:21:00.000-08:002013-01-18T23:23:28.666-08:00weird video, but lovely song<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/th97HMEdngA" width="480"></iframe><br />
Now just picture dear and beloved TB singing this on 26 May 2013. <br />
<br />
But all things will come together. Songs and feasts and wine overflowing. And that day will be one unforgettable.pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-21753111829259889832013-01-03T00:22:00.000-08:002013-01-31T21:22:30.172-08:0012.27.12 [the Mountain-Climber proposes]<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Is not impermanence the very fragrance of our days? </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>-Rilke</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The hunger in my right hand for my pen has eased by now, and the blank pages of my newest journal perturb me a little less. I have grown adjusted to the fleeting days and accustomed to ignoring my longing to record all pieces of beauty and heartbreak and detail, given over to the scarcity of opportunities to write this fall and winter. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>Do not fear, Little One, your hand will again drink from the inkwell in its time and season.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
But how could I not inscribe this day, when the Winemaker asked for me? These are the things I will remember from the sunset that changed my life:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">the almost-full moon rising as we drove back in starlight</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">and that beautiful expanse, the vista east and north and west he led me to, the sweeping Methow Valley edging toward Loup Loup, the Pasayten, the Cascades and the Okanogan. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5TOnl7wQ5zbchAmn_wOK8nQbAI40_viLE8DFgD-9gATIPwbnjVeHEwzlu3o4o8zEQj7votONb1MXeSkgdwYvTb3GmZz5An_EYC-rDlw-mO8tpZj8eAcfPjH0ozYqu7pMS90i2xa3-bs/s1600/72807_621269309819_565329921_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5TOnl7wQ5zbchAmn_wOK8nQbAI40_viLE8DFgD-9gATIPwbnjVeHEwzlu3o4o8zEQj7votONb1MXeSkgdwYvTb3GmZz5An_EYC-rDlw-mO8tpZj8eAcfPjH0ozYqu7pMS90i2xa3-bs/s320/72807_621269309819_565329921_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">laughing uncontrollably as I began to discern the immediacy of the coming request. My love also laughing, terribly nervous. Turning me as we calmed to face the sunlight on the mountains.</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVK2xCAnXEbIl0ErtriQ9xoXo3yJmPNFe3db8UHkdHggCl3zMhaAEUPnCoVIT9kj2J9Fu_ccQTzs1JKJ84SE637ajBwlJFhHre0ILJ0AwNeR9Y1N1TxzFBGvJPSh4vNTK8PXHRq37MOKE/s1600/530637_621269284869_1686935449_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVK2xCAnXEbIl0ErtriQ9xoXo3yJmPNFe3db8UHkdHggCl3zMhaAEUPnCoVIT9kj2J9Fu_ccQTzs1JKJ84SE637ajBwlJFhHre0ILJ0AwNeR9Y1N1TxzFBGvJPSh4vNTK8PXHRq37MOKE/s320/530637_621269284869_1686935449_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;">his arms encircling me as he recalled the dream I had after we met but before we ever spent time together, the scene of us running through tall fields of sunflowers, planted ten and twelve feet high along narrow trails. Our visit to Elbow Coulee in May, when he first took me home, to participate in the mountain race Sunflower Relay. (<i>I met you in a dream, my Love, and I woke with the knowledge that my husband would come to me</i>).</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">And then I could no longer feel his arms around me, and I could not turn around to see him on his knees; I was weeping before I even faced him. <i>I want to run with you, </i>he told me, <i>as long as I walk this earth.</i></li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgas4HjLus_syr8EvKjyYg9gAl09Wfn-LL21cP8FjKhTF8q-ySilYLE09_YHMSCsR6vcHU8gY4xNTPhI2dvRuPGMZxXxb75_oZoBzrb7PehPKkh5zbBGDRwGs048iCOoWpt6WIaNWhBwDI/s1600/3363_621269354729_1943916155_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgas4HjLus_syr8EvKjyYg9gAl09Wfn-LL21cP8FjKhTF8q-ySilYLE09_YHMSCsR6vcHU8gY4xNTPhI2dvRuPGMZxXxb75_oZoBzrb7PehPKkh5zbBGDRwGs048iCOoWpt6WIaNWhBwDI/s320/3363_621269354729_1943916155_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOTKyV-pxrPJP7aUQDH9PvQhwsgjDwsVs7avFHiuLDqdalU5sXJWRsWdRWG5Ng-ybuLKegFCMa_5tk0ZgpYWr6b6ITJCKpBZ6arP8I87sBhAnYw9SNbQeJAsGANDnCUrXXSm_NSejzv0/s1600/431177_621269339759_495166706_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOTKyV-pxrPJP7aUQDH9PvQhwsgjDwsVs7avFHiuLDqdalU5sXJWRsWdRWG5Ng-ybuLKegFCMa_5tk0ZgpYWr6b6ITJCKpBZ6arP8I87sBhAnYw9SNbQeJAsGANDnCUrXXSm_NSejzv0/s320/431177_621269339759_495166706_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuOTKyV-pxrPJP7aUQDH9PvQhwsgjDwsVs7avFHiuLDqdalU5sXJWRsWdRWG5Ng-ybuLKegFCMa_5tk0ZgpYWr6b6ITJCKpBZ6arP8I87sBhAnYw9SNbQeJAsGANDnCUrXXSm_NSejzv0/s1600/431177_621269339759_495166706_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf6QlSBvygz6utExtcejk0R1tdNZnE3kaJmS140Q7xA0RUJ0ZtDJcMhbnCEz2xIA9r9vHTQvNt_RMGjnybZYhaO-2rzMwzRxE31tHl90b-f4dmlkRghFgWZ6e0qHvhQfyF7HZux02SWR0/s1600/602935_621269379679_1061041585_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf6QlSBvygz6utExtcejk0R1tdNZnE3kaJmS140Q7xA0RUJ0ZtDJcMhbnCEz2xIA9r9vHTQvNt_RMGjnybZYhaO-2rzMwzRxE31tHl90b-f4dmlkRghFgWZ6e0qHvhQfyF7HZux02SWR0/s320/602935_621269379679_1061041585_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i></i></div>
<i></i><br />
<i><div style="display: inline !important; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>Yes, the Lord has been so good to me.</i></span></div>
</i>pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-4051768344623857862012-12-17T11:28:00.001-08:002012-12-17T11:28:22.835-08:00Landfill Harmonic<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/fXynrsrTKbI?fs=1" width="480"></iframe>pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-10861616255145387472012-12-01T23:42:00.000-08:002013-01-18T23:44:34.788-08:00Bozeman Thanksgiving<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtDj8Aaa9SurEupqsHMzy6XgFxKN0-FJCSIc7zKy_J2ltzPO6YM34KoCd7u2_FXm82HfmepMobt2k5ByklQXwdKgZ2q4ZypKPeIgfWBmiWJw8GonkXZs6hy56dNduidYEuocz3TLhY28/s1600/16099_616871153759_1980247439_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvtDj8Aaa9SurEupqsHMzy6XgFxKN0-FJCSIc7zKy_J2ltzPO6YM34KoCd7u2_FXm82HfmepMobt2k5ByklQXwdKgZ2q4ZypKPeIgfWBmiWJw8GonkXZs6hy56dNduidYEuocz3TLhY28/s320/16099_616871153759_1980247439_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>dearest friends</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpHqtSNRXRhPeoRn7c1bRFUPP2Xayabgl91gFgkEhe-AIBwo9OzbQRlLLksJuJZgpzMMZlVQXNeQYWZv2LcDGud8omRoNBDpM5L24Afw0c077zZm3YVh9MPFwvpv3OGFa-KZX-WU2GpA/s1600/374428_616867840399_841651382_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpHqtSNRXRhPeoRn7c1bRFUPP2Xayabgl91gFgkEhe-AIBwo9OzbQRlLLksJuJZgpzMMZlVQXNeQYWZv2LcDGud8omRoNBDpM5L24Afw0c077zZm3YVh9MPFwvpv3OGFa-KZX-WU2GpA/s320/374428_616867840399_841651382_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>branch art installations</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQaUcLlVtAhp0fNwzgjCQljpNiEYq3_9GmOcdC1qt0MabRUGcldSqe2p23kBvtLw7Y_x4NIe5-vg6E9mKFqWNXPZ8mC-DTTM5ESk35XWxCwKAMKoi4VBHf3TtSfY6pzG4tyXpiRypkPFQ/s1600/526888_616871108849_234471862_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQaUcLlVtAhp0fNwzgjCQljpNiEYq3_9GmOcdC1qt0MabRUGcldSqe2p23kBvtLw7Y_x4NIe5-vg6E9mKFqWNXPZ8mC-DTTM5ESk35XWxCwKAMKoi4VBHf3TtSfY6pzG4tyXpiRypkPFQ/s320/526888_616871108849_234471862_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>the Winemaker</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rJh54eyAYZC9qKutMbnus95_9qlQMjUuWRevmBxKvRU-G0AqX09Q2KZa75wOD7xcEa7bM-70cT4WmbUCdExcyebou8_W-HiP4UgftOt-2C4Ka-UMxhCIeiqOFzIQMvWGxzJPM4cBzu4/s1600/561485_616871203659_760051040_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7rJh54eyAYZC9qKutMbnus95_9qlQMjUuWRevmBxKvRU-G0AqX09Q2KZa75wOD7xcEa7bM-70cT4WmbUCdExcyebou8_W-HiP4UgftOt-2C4Ka-UMxhCIeiqOFzIQMvWGxzJPM4cBzu4/s320/561485_616871203659_760051040_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>an incredible meal, after a 21 day cleanse</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3YmIJnM8O0SKhYGS9btJ5ZSfLLlh_ryycwHdTzc4yJLcnpqxOgIpDE0Pk5SK2QgWqXKPTQvR7RaQoaaVXCBcI4D5RTxY2nZm1FGEE6MM3BOX1gOuRdoWqHe8KOyI1Ph1GjRvfCUjR1U/s1600/401365_616868174729_158771607_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3YmIJnM8O0SKhYGS9btJ5ZSfLLlh_ryycwHdTzc4yJLcnpqxOgIpDE0Pk5SK2QgWqXKPTQvR7RaQoaaVXCBcI4D5RTxY2nZm1FGEE6MM3BOX1gOuRdoWqHe8KOyI1Ph1GjRvfCUjR1U/s320/401365_616868174729_158771607_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>mountains, snowshoeing, and light</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhA5Lbdx8k9a5bSRcleqxfiJD98quEUbk49LuOdjRXoOSVCCBs4acFyAEYdgT9cZX3sWeTIgo6TEYxdR-93Lc_yVczLnLaSF9Rg_c4A7E_615Hdv1jZFi1OC-u5PN6UUmjz1IUgfGoHHg/s1600/29578_616866902279_1428703240_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhA5Lbdx8k9a5bSRcleqxfiJD98quEUbk49LuOdjRXoOSVCCBs4acFyAEYdgT9cZX3sWeTIgo6TEYxdR-93Lc_yVczLnLaSF9Rg_c4A7E_615Hdv1jZFi1OC-u5PN6UUmjz1IUgfGoHHg/s320/29578_616866902279_1428703240_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>these four </i></div>
<br />pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-88619796005429985962012-11-03T13:45:00.000-07:002012-11-09T13:47:01.279-08:00when we were young, oh oh, (we did enough)<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/35551356?badge=0&color=adadad" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" width="500"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/35551356">"Stubborn Love" by The Lumineers</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/looksessions">Look Sessions</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
<br />
<i>it's better to feel pain than nothing at all</i><br />
<i>the opposite of love's indifference</i><br />
<i>so keep your head up, keep your love</i><br />
<i>keep your head up, my love</i>pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-40082837492282044662012-11-01T11:34:00.000-07:002012-11-08T11:35:55.254-08:00worth watching<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="174" mozallowfullscreen="mozallowfullscreen" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/47043218?autoplay=1" webkitallowfullscreen="webkitallowfullscreen" width="310"></iframe><br />
<br />
<i>“This [genocide] is how we came to own these United States. This is the
legacy of manifest destiny. Prisoners are still born into prisoner of
war camps, long after the guards are gone.” </i><br />
-Aaron Huey pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-89379734842939947372012-10-27T23:28:00.000-07:002013-01-31T21:24:40.755-08:00(from my journal)The wind is blowing out the windows, the leaves are sorts of colors. Thirteen days have passed since the fish journal--the one beginning with the Winemaker--ran out of blank spaces. My stomach has contracted for, but my feet found no spare minutes, time to sit and write. now it is a Saturday, local, and there is coffee of course, and in a few minutes I will head out to <i>Castillo de Feliciana</i>, to absorb the wind, to pick grapes and walk the rows east toward the Blues, to fend off the rain just a few hours more and hold Winter back until her time.pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-61878764354817893652012-10-23T13:21:00.000-07:002012-11-03T13:39:01.544-07:00autumn glory: cider party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My man's been busy busy working 90, 100 hour weeks for crush this autumn. Malbec, syrah, albariño, cabernet sauvignon, <i>bolsa negra</i>. </div>
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So it was extra generous when he set me up in his Ranger (we traded cars for the weekend), carboys and growlers strapped down in the back, and sent me north to his village at the foot of the Cascades, even though he couldn't come. What a delicious treat to help his family pick apples and join in pressing 50 gallons of cider! </div>
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And to discuss <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johnny_Appleseed" target="_blank">the true story of Johnny Appleseed</a>, the tearing out of cider orchards during prohibition, and the subsequent advent of wheat production and beer in our country, with a certain beloved hobby orchardist and father. </div>
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Bringing back 20 gallons for the Winemaker to convert into hard cider felt small but purposeful, the way it feels to help pick or de-stem grapes. I always knew I'd be with a farmer. And I am so lucky.</div>
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pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-42936168566868975892012-10-03T16:52:00.000-07:002012-11-09T13:37:50.544-08:00the winter steals my songs away / in all of this i come undone<i><i></i></i><br />
<i><i><pre style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">V2.</pre>
</i></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><i><i><pre style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">I've been a child I've been a slave
I've grown bitter and learned to pray
Packed my bags and started back
The cost was just too high to pay </pre>
</i></i></span></span><i></i><br />
<i><pre style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch28" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Em</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch23" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">G/F#</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch6" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">C9</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch16" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">G</a>
When you walk through the water I will be with you
<a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch29" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Em</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch24" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">G/F#</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch17" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">G</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch7" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">C9</a>
When you pass through the river the waves will not overtake you
<a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch30" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Em</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch25" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">G/F#</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch8" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">C9</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch18" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">G</a>
When you walk on the fire the flames they will not touch you
<a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch31" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Em</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch26" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">G/F#</a> <a class="ch" href="http://www.guitaretab.com/e/enter-the-worship-circle/229335.html" id="ch9" style="color: blue; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New'; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none;">C9</a>
You are mine, you are mine, you are mine
</pre>
</i><br />
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<script defer="true" src="http://www.myspace.com/music/buttons/js"></script> <br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_h-O5NWH830" width="420"></iframe><br />
<script defer="true" src="http://www.myspace.com/music/buttons/js"></script>pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-77770585952262853932012-10-01T16:20:00.000-07:002012-10-27T16:20:26.156-07:00Welcome Autumn<div>
bring your abandoned orchard plum-picking evenings, </div>
<div>
your canyon runs southeast to Harris Park</div>
<div>
show us the late and lingering blackberries before they crumple and wilt,</div>
<div>
shriveled raisins on the vines</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i love the hood of his ranger, his arms around me, our eyes on the glow to the west</div>
<div>
as i love each stranger's invitation to pick Asian pears, </div>
<div>
or sitting beside him in the truck, windows down, back road wind & silence</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
welcome autumn, bring your long runs again,</div>
<div>
your deep shadows on the Blues in the afternoons</div>
<div>
Peter Bradley Adams & the rain, the rains returning</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
pressing coffee each morning before i bike to work</div>
<div>
helping destem grapes at crush, for merlot, syrah, malbec</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
take your coming slowly, stay awhilepearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-19279927935668675602012-09-22T16:06:00.000-07:002012-10-27T16:10:46.500-07:00Goodbye Summerblueberry picking<br />
rock climbing<br />
driving alongside the Clearwater River<br />
hiking Hyalite Peak<br />
walking to Dora's for burritos<br />
watching the sunset<br />
lightning storms over wheat fields<br />
chickpea harvest dust<br />
Pike's Peak runs<br />
iced coffee from the Patisserie<br />
night hiking, my denim romper<br />
picking up Kia from the airport in Pasco<br />
suntime on the beloved Maasai blanket<br />
driving cross-country with K<br />
the Wind River Canyon<br />
the Bighorns & Tetons & Black Hills<br />
swimming in the St Croix River<br />
cooking up a storm for my man<br />
Friday night dinners (may they continue) and fasting<br />
my new deck!<br />
Eagle Cap backpack weekend<br />
walking everywhere<br />
time in W2 to rest & find rhythm again<br />
being neighbors with C<br />
salsa night at Castillo<br />
going to Life together on Sundays<br />
time with friends in Montana & up north<br />
J visiting<br />
hiking Cutthroat Pass to the PCT<br />
kayaking<br />
raspberry picking<br />
huckleberry picking<br />
trail maintence on Lick Creek Trail<br />
hiking Umatilla Rim<br />
reading so much<br />
the Tiger Tri<br />
celebrating the Solstice with C, D, & T<br />
Farmers Market...pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-3460195911204237572012-09-17T15:59:00.000-07:002012-10-27T16:00:34.283-07:00<i>''Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.''</i><br />
-Helen Keller<br />
<br />
'<i>'And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.''</i><br />
<i> -</i>Erica Jongpearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-65095148924570871372012-08-23T15:10:00.000-07:002012-10-13T15:12:18.140-07:00summer cooking*chilled blackberry soup<br />
*spicy grilled eggplant with wilted greens & balsamic<br />
*sweet & spicy bean dip with homemade wheat tortillas<br />
*vegan chickpea tuna<br />
* peach crisp<br />
*salmon-chard soufflé<br />
*dragon lingerie string beans with tahini dressing<br />
*zucchini bread<br />
*portobello fajitas with chipotlé avocado vegan aioli<br />
*morning glory muffins<br />
*kale with cinnamon<br />
*Portuguese kale soup<br />
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<br />pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-33416033537080508472012-08-16T21:18:00.000-07:002012-10-23T21:20:10.081-07:00you are exactly where you need to be<div style="text-align: center;">
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pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-38349377384166641612012-08-07T21:13:00.000-07:002012-10-27T16:23:26.690-07:00bury my heart at wounded knee<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
i don't want to sound like a broken record </div>
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<i>maybe i need a more creative way to tell this story</i></div>
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but from wind river canyon (shoshone land) and tensleep</div>
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rocks from the cambrian, precambrian, triassic periods</div>
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from thermopolis, the famous hot springs sold to congress in 1897 by chief washakie,</div>
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with the one caveat that 1/4 of the springs be always reserved for public use</div>
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(congress had been pressuring the tribes to sell for years, you know)</div>
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from the black hills carved with those four leaders (but whose leaders? who?) </div>
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to that towering deviled rock, rising 1280 feet off the high plains</div>
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from the bighorns to buffalo</div>
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and keyhole to custer (are we really still naming things for this man?)</div>
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i hear faint voices in the breeze, and i join in, bewildered, ashamed</div>
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<i>this land is my land, this land is your land</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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well i don't know much about forced migration, gentrification, </div>
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measles and casinos and drug cartels </div>
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the manifold ways in which debt is atoned for, or forgotten</div>
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<i>after all, who owns the colorado river?</i></div>
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but my heart aches for the blood in the soil,</div>
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the scarlet that stains my feet seeping up from our given, good earth</div>
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pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-76531423953118470782012-07-31T14:37:00.000-07:002012-10-13T14:51:23.640-07:00road trippin' (gypsy august)<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.mapquest.com/embed?hk=Tpkyer" style="height: 270px; width: 450px;"></iframe><div>
W2 to Minnesota... </div>
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Grand Teton, Wind River Canyon to Thermopolis Hot Springs</div>
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Sundance, Buffalo, and Devil's Tower, Crazy Horse</div>
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Minneapolis and Hudson, Wisconsin</div>
pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-35834441274174141802012-07-16T14:34:00.000-07:002012-10-13T14:36:55.932-07:00rivers till i reach you<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Q8yLwuDi2mA?fs=1" width="480"></iframe>pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-65617067750340751762012-07-13T16:59:00.000-07:002012-07-14T17:00:58.655-07:00AmeriCorps Graduation [more on goodbyes]Be ahead of all parting, as if it had already happened<br />
like winter, which even now is passing.<br />
For beneath the winter is a winter so endless<br />
that to survive it at all is a triumph of the heart.<br />
<br />
Be forever dead in Eurydice, and climb back singing.<br />
Climb back praising as you return to connection.<br />
Here among the disappearing, in the realm of the transient,<br />
be a ringing glass that shatters as it rings.<br />
<br />
Be. And, at the same time, know what it is <i>not</i> to be.<br />
That emptiness inside you allows you to vibrate<br />
in resonance with the world. Use it for once.<br />
<br />
To all that has run its course, and to the vast unsayable<br />
numbers of beings abounding in nature,<br />
add yourself gladly, and cancel the cost.<br />
<br />
-Rilke, <i>Sonnets to Orpheus</i>, part two, XIIIpearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-38795408493159511532012-07-03T13:51:00.000-07:002012-07-04T13:52:22.582-07:00one more for the stars and the eyes of the walls / i saw your face, i heard you calling out<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/2iSQGWpy0qY?fs=1" width="480"></iframe><br />
i am on my way, i am on my way<br />
i am on my way back to where i started<br />
<br />
california, oklahoma and all of the places i ain't ever been to but<br />
down in the valley with whisky rivers<br />
these are the places you will find me hiding,<br />
these are the places i will always go<br />
these are the places i will always go<br />
<br />
so i wish i was a slave to an age-old trade<br />
lord have mercy on my rough and rowdy wayspearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-54951241684809289312012-06-30T14:26:00.000-07:002012-07-01T23:54:04.500-07:00Waiilatpu<i>Place of the Rye Grass</i><br />
<br />
Six feet tall in every direction--can you imagine?<br />
<br />
So this is how the West was ''settled,'' as it were. The Whitmans, Marcus and Narcissa, were killed, along with ten others, by Cayuse and Umatilla Indians. Another 54 were taken captive. It took a few years, but Congress created Oregon Territory in attempts to catch and hang those responsible for the deaths. <br />
<br />
I'm uncomfortable with the word Massacre, as it seems to negate everything leading up to the incident... the Presbyterian missionary doctor who repeatedly administered medicine for measles to Indian children who still died, while the same medicine worked for the whites. How must that have looked? The Cayuse doctrine that a medicine man pays for repeated deaths with his own life.<br />
<br />
Or the way Whitman tried to convince the tribes, seasonally nomadic, to settle down on patches of land and farm, for the sake of the mission. Couldn't have the local population moving on to salmon grounds every fall when you're trying to start a church.<br />
<br />
There was the fake newspaper story in East Coast papers talking about tribal men asking for holy teaching, getting white missionaries excited to go West in the first place. <br />
<br />
And the words words written by Whitman's wife, Narcissa, the first white woman to make the trek on the Oregon Trail west and a pioneer if there ever was one, in her diary and letters, that betray a certain racism in her missionary efforts. Oh, the motives that lie within!<br />
<br />
Because of the bickering and quarreling among missionaries, the Presbyterian leadership back East voted to close the Mission, but in an astonishing journey, Marcus Whitman left in October 1942 for New York City and Washington, DC, riding through the winter Rockies and down through Taos, New Mexico, to plead his case. He arrived in March, and the board agreed to let Whitman Mission remain open.<br />
<br />
Anyway, a few years after the Massacre, with the tribe on the lam and in the hills, five Cayuse men consented to turn themselves in. They were tried and hanged in Oregon City. It's not clear whether these men were guilty; two of them were tribal leaders; perhaps they were just trying to protect their people.<br />
<br />
But the entire Cayuse paid. The Cayuse War that followed the Whitmans' murders left most of the tribe wiped out by settlers, remaining members joined with the Nez Perce.<br />
<br />
Now I believe there is never an excuse for murder, though there may be a story found in spilled blood. I know the hearts of Marcus and Narcissa were probably as troubled and pained and grey as those of Tiloukaikt and Tomahas. But I stand on these grounds, rye grass hills, wheat grass lining the Oregon Trail, and I wonder if things might have gone differently... <br />
<br />
If the Black Hills and Cayuse, Appalacia and so many other parts of this land might not have come to their current government through dislocation. Through genocide. <br />
<br />
Most days I push it down deep, don't want to sound extremist, don't want to offend, am more white myself than Cherokee, but this isn't about racial allegiance:<br />
<br />
the truth is, it hurts to live on stolen land.pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-39803771274038124462012-06-20T23:00:00.000-07:002012-06-25T15:46:43.967-07:00happy solstice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8933671330476575981.post-11947908876497875892012-06-14T15:19:00.000-07:002012-06-25T15:20:40.745-07:00The Umatilla,from Lake Creek Trail into North Fork Wilderness.<br />
We found the wreck of a downed plane: deep indent in the ground,<br />
rusting metal everywhere, eerie and overgrown.<br />
The crash took place in the 40s--a World War II training exercise<br />
took a turn for the worse.<br />
<br />
This morning, we heard an elk bugling, loud and distant,<br />
recalling the howler monkeys of Costa Rica,<br />
the way you'd hear them hundreds of yards off, moving from tree to tree,<br />
coming closer.<br />
<br />
Well, yesterday was a year since I left Honduras,<br />
and as for the south,<br />
I both long for and release it.<br />
<br />
In the Umatilla, I lose count of the firs I see tipping 30 inches in diameter,<br />
the Western Larch and Blue Spruce (Engelmann's), and White and Lodgepole Pine.<br />
<br />
I revel in the Indian Paintbrush and yellow alpine lupines<br />
(I've only seen purple lupines before).<br />
I lay in my ocean blue tent and easily shut my eyes at 8'o'clock.<br />
<br />
My left forearm swells and my hamstrings ache,<br />
but I praise the G-d of all these trees and ridges,<br />
of wide silent spaces and wildflowers.<br />
<br />
Yes, may the Prince and Maker of this greenness live near me forever.<br />
<br />pearlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02967071674502752625noreply@blogger.com1