prelude: Ash Wednesday

I have apologized more times than one
    have paid my dues to the thistle and the thorn
and many times have I thought,
    this flame is enough!

have faced my own wickedness with something akin to despair
or, 
    infinitely more cowardly, 
        refused to face it

Yet I will fathom the depths of my aggression,
    my heartbreak and longing, my entitlement and greed

        and turn, turn

Turn to You  
Turn into your face, your gaze, your solid chest

Turn to cry, 'Change me!' 
'Leave me not alone!'

O you who pulled me from the pit,
who breathed,
and your breath dispersed my darkness:
    do not forget me
        and do not pass me by!

I recognize (though I hardly understand)
I am ashes and dust

But you come, 
you invite
your warmth, 
your eyes

Lord Jesus Christ, 
    I receive you 
        
into my twisted heart.

inspiration

See all photos here.  

winter cooking

• Smoothies: bananas, spinach, kale, fruit, chard, almond milk, flaxseed, ice
• Savory zucchini bread with Moroccan spices
• Cabbage-fennel soup with roasted garlic chips
• Zucchini frittata with chilis
• Pumpkin-cauliflower soup
• White wine curry squash soup
• Raw kale salad with sesame dressing
• Mozzarella chard salad
• Red wine vinegar black bean dip

weird video, but lovely song

Now just picture dear and beloved TB singing this on 26 May 2013.

But all things will come together.  Songs and feasts and wine overflowing.  And that day will be one unforgettable.

12.27.12 [the Mountain-Climber proposes]

Is not impermanence the very fragrance of our days? 

-Rilke

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.  

Do not fear, Little One, your hand will again drink from the inkwell in its time and season.

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:

• the almost-full moon rising as we drove back in starlight
• 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.  

• 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.

• 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 met you in a dream, my Love,  and I woke with the knowledge that my husband would come to me).
• 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 want to run with you, he told me, as long as I walk this earth.

Yes, the Lord has been so good to me.

Landfill Harmonic

Bozeman Thanksgiving

 dearest friends

 branch art installations

 the Winemaker

 an incredible meal, after a 21 day cleanse

 mountains, snowshoeing, and light

these four 

when we were young, oh oh, (we did enough)

"Stubborn Love" by The Lumineers from Look Sessions on Vimeo.

it's better to feel pain than nothing at all
the opposite of love's indifference
so keep your head up, keep your love
keep your head up, my love

worth watching

“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.” 
-Aaron Huey

(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 Castillo de Feliciana, 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.

autumn glory: cider party

My man's been busy busy working 90, 100 hour weeks for crush this autumn.  Malbec, syrah, albariño, cabernet sauvignon, bolsa negra.   

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! 

And to discuss the true story of Johnny Appleseed, 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.  

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.

the winter steals my songs away / in all of this i come undone

V2.

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 

Em                         G/F#       C9          G
When you walk through the water I will be with you
Em                         G/F#        G                C9    
When you pass through the river the waves will not overtake you
Em                            G/F#       C9               G
When you walk on the fire the flames they will not touch you
Em                   G/F#                 C9 
You are mine, you are mine, you are mine

Welcome Autumn

bring your abandoned orchard plum-picking evenings, 

your canyon runs southeast to Harris Park

show us the late and lingering blackberries before they crumple and wilt,

shriveled raisins on the vines

i love the hood of his ranger, his arms around me, our eyes on the glow to the west

as i love each stranger's invitation to pick Asian pears, 

or sitting beside him in the truck, windows down, back road wind & silence

welcome autumn, bring your long runs again,

your deep shadows on the Blues in the afternoons

Peter Bradley Adams & the rain, the rains returning

pressing coffee each morning before i bike to work

helping destem grapes at crush, for merlot, syrah, malbec

take your coming slowly, stay awhile

Goodbye Summer

blueberry picking
rock climbing
driving alongside the Clearwater River
hiking Hyalite Peak
walking to Dora's for burritos
watching the sunset
lightning storms over wheat fields
chickpea harvest dust
Pike's Peak runs
iced coffee from the Patisserie
night hiking, my denim romper
picking up Kia from the airport in Pasco
suntime on the beloved Maasai blanket
driving cross-country with K
the Wind River Canyon
the Bighorns & Tetons & Black Hills
swimming in the St Croix River
cooking up a storm for my man
Friday night dinners (may they continue) and fasting
my new deck!
Eagle Cap backpack weekend
walking everywhere
time in W2 to rest & find rhythm again
being neighbors with C
salsa night at Castillo
going to Life together on Sundays
time with friends in Montana & up north
J visiting
hiking Cutthroat Pass to the PCT
kayaking
raspberry picking
huckleberry picking
trail maintence on Lick Creek Trail
hiking Umatilla Rim
reading so much
the Tiger Tri
celebrating the Solstice with C, D, & T
Farmers Market...

''Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.''
       -Helen Keller

''And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.''
       -Erica Jong

summer cooking

*chilled blackberry soup
*spicy grilled eggplant with wilted greens & balsamic
*sweet & spicy bean dip with homemade wheat tortillas
*vegan chickpea tuna
* peach crisp
*salmon-chard soufflé
*dragon lingerie string beans with tahini dressing
*zucchini bread
*portobello fajitas with chipotlé avocado vegan aioli
*morning glory muffins
*kale with cinnamon
*Portuguese kale soup

you are exactly where you need to be

bury my heart at wounded knee

i don't want to sound like a broken record 

maybe i need a more creative way to tell this story

but from wind river canyon (shoshone land) and tensleep

rocks from the cambrian, precambrian, triassic periods

from thermopolis, the famous hot springs sold to congress in 1897 by chief washakie,

with the one caveat that 1/4 of the springs be always reserved for public use

(congress had been pressuring the tribes to sell for years, you know)

from the black hills carved with those four leaders (but whose leaders?  who?) 

to that towering deviled rock, rising 1280 feet off the high plains

from the bighorns to buffalo

and keyhole to custer (are we really still naming things for this man?)

i hear faint voices in the breeze, and i join in, bewildered, ashamed

this land is my land, this land is your land

well i don't know much about forced migration, gentrification, 

measles and casinos and drug cartels 

the manifold ways in which debt is atoned for, or forgotten

after all, who owns the colorado river?

but my heart aches for the blood in the soil,

the scarlet that stains my feet seeping up from our given, good earth

road trippin' (gypsy august)

W2 to Minnesota... 

Grand Teton, Wind River Canyon to Thermopolis Hot Springs

Sundance, Buffalo, and Devil's Tower, Crazy Horse

Minneapolis and Hudson, Wisconsin

rivers till i reach you