Wednesday, February 27, 2013


~~someone on Facebook

YES! YES! YES!  it surely is.  and when someone tells you not to worry, don't you just go out and worry all the more?

Whoever this mysterious , but wise enough to know that if you put a picture of a cat on it more people would pay attention,Facebook person is, he or she is correct.

Imagination is a wonderful and fanciful thing. most of mans great  inventions and ideas and leaps of faith started there.  A land of "what if" not a place of what is.  Worry can't effect the outcome, but it sure can effect the person doing the worrying.   

It's hard not to worry, especially when someone calls your attention to it  and if you have  plenty of nothing else to occupy your little grey cells, that only makes worrying easier..

I wonder if it would help if one told oneself that it was "all in your imagination?"   

Monday, February 25, 2013

Honor the Earth Moon

Winter has grown old and, long in the tooth, yet he is more tenacious than before, as if he dares not loose his grip, lest he himself be lost. 
The house has grown so small, that we fairly trip over each other at every turn.   We are more than ready to leave the warmth of the fireside, to stretch our cramped limbs, and feel the sap rise.

I have been watching the full moon rise, glowing bright white hot and it turns the snow into an ocean of pearly canvas dusted with glittering colors.   At trick of the biting cold, but beautiful none the less.  The air so fresh and cold it hurts to breathe. 

Solmonath, the second month of the year, the month is which the the strengthening sun and lengthening day quicken the heart and soul of not just  gardeners, but anyone who  appreciate the turning season.   Monath is the old English word for month and sol, means earth or soil,and to further add confusion, sol with a long O can mean the sun.  Or further still it could mean the yoke used for teams of oxen.

The Venerable Bede also referred to it as the "month of cakes", possibly referring to the offering of special loaves to God (or originally Goddess)  by placing in the fields to insure a good harvest.

The full moon of February, is a time for honoring the earth, for rejoicing and celebrating her as Gaea wakes from her deep slumber and prepares to wake this years new life.  So i will call this beautiful, silvery, white hot moon, lighting the icy gems of snowflakes, the Honor the Earth full Moon.

February Moon names

Ice (Celtic).
Old Moon (Cree).
Gray Moon (Pima).
Wind Moon (Creek).
Winter Moon (Taos).
Nuts Moon (Natchez).
Avunnivik Moon (Inuit).
Geese Moon (Omaha).
Bony Moon (Cherokee).
Purification Moon (Hopi).

Little bud Moon (Kiowa).
Snow Moon (Neo-Pagan).
Lateness Moon (Mohawk).
Shoulder Moon (Wishram).
Rabbit Moon (Potawatomi).
Sucker Moon (Anishnaabe).
Long Dry Moon (Assiniboine).
Little Famine Moon (Choctaw).
Storm Moon (Medieval English).
Sparkling Frost Moon (Arapaho).
Running Fish Moon (Winnebago).
Coyote Frighten Moon (San Juan)

Spruce Tips Moon (Passamaquoddy).
Raccoon Moon, Trees Pop Moon (Sioux).
Hunger Moon : Dark, Storm Moon : Full (Janic).
Snow Moon, Hunger Moon, Trapper̢۪s Moon (Algonquin).

Other moon names : Wolf Moon, Wild Moon, Quickening Moon, Solmonath Moon, Chaste Moon, Horning Moon, Red Moon, Big Winter Moon, Cleansing Moon


Ah well, March is not so far away.

~~by Our Beautiful World and Universe

Saturday, February 9, 2013

I got Cabin Fever

The house might be warm and snug on a cold night like tonight, and it is warm and snug, a little too snug. I need room to stretch out.
I can remember thinking that old people like me probably don't get spring fever, one of those things I reasoned in my well informed youth. I stood outside in the snow looking for the last sliver of tonight's waning moon, it was so silent, except for the occasional oof-plop of snow sliding from a pine branch and landing on the snowy ground. No cars or snowmobilers in the distance, not even an owl or a dog, scarcely a whisper of wind broke the still cold air.  Coal smoke, and the metallic smell of near a nearly 0 air temperature, the sky was full of stars.and sadly no sliver of moon. 
The windows of the house glowing warmly golden across the fresh blanket of whiteness, the days are getting longer, and warmer, but the night is still cold.  Warm sunny days and cold nights cause the sap to rise in the Maples, and rising maple sap gets turned into maple syrup.  Those sunny days and cold nights also cause the sap to rise in some, well me anyways.  I stood out there until I was cold enough that it was no longer fun, listening, smelling the crisp air and watching the sky.  I didn't want to come in, but I wasn't bundled against the cold.
Inside there are seed catalogs, warmth, the electronic campfires of television and my Internet machine.   

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

A few words on paper

I have probably written 2 may-be 3 letters in the past 12 months, and this is not something I am all that proud of.  I used to write to many people most of whom I had never met.  That was long before I owned an Internet machine.  It was  before anyone even heard of the Internet, when I started being a  pen pal. I have written to people who lived on every continent.  At one time I was corresponding with over 20 people who fortunately didn't all write back immediately.  And sometimes I didn't either.

Some people I got to know really well others wrote what was more like a form letter.  Pictures of the kids, pets and grandchildren, new homes and cars were traded. Recipes and small gifts got exchanged, and we got to know each other. There would often be a small homemade booklet enclose called a friendship book, not to be confused with the autograph books we had as kid, in this FB...yes I know,  JUST NOTICED THAT, as it was called for short, one wrote their name address, birthday, especially if you were looking for a :birthday  twin" {as some people only wrote to "BTs"} a bit about yourself, like dislikes ,married many kids and or pets.  There were abbreviations included
NNP-no new pals
LLG- long letter gal, some one who was not interested in corresponding just to fill their mail box, but was looking for friends
SLP-sincere letter pal, meaning they wrote back immediately.
There were others.
What post card, stamp, tea towel, and what have you traders used to identify themselves with,are  things I forgot long ago. Remembered  though are the people who only traded SLAMS, which sounds cruels but was a again a small homemade book that consisted of mainly questions that you would answer, and then like the FB passed on and when it was full you sent it back to the person it was either stared for or started by.

I know now I have forgotten the power of words written for you to read, sent only to you, not for anyone else unless you want to share with them.  to pick up and pen and commit words to paper in an age when there are so many options has brought me a sharper focus on just how personal a letter is.  A handmade exchange of ideas between two people.  A communication that carrys with it bits of the writer on a molecular level as well as the subtle hints of their character, and they that they had something so important to tell someone, who was so important, that it was worth the extra effort of committing it to paper. 

Letters get saved, carefully put away to be read again, and again, not just love letters,  but any letters.  Having found letters  left in old furniture written about even the most mundane topics ,  my thinking  is these were a visit with that person, and kept like a keepsake , a visit, when a real visit was not possible.


Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Belated Imbolic

Why was there no Imbolic post this year?  I knew what I  wanted to say, it just didn't seem to fall together right.   As good fortune would have it, even though I didn't have the words Mama Donna Henes did.  So a bit late here they are
:OK. Now pay attention. This is how it works: if the ground hog sees her shadow, it means that there are still six more weeks of Winter. If she doesn't see her shadow, it means that Spring is only six weeks away. So what is the difference? There are always six more weeks of Winter. Spring is always six weeks away.

That is why we mark the day in the first place. To remind us that Winter is half over. To access our situation. According to the Old Farmer's Almanac, by Ground Hog's Day you should still have half of your food store and half of your fuel if you are going to make it through the remainder of winter. And for us, I guess that means we have to have half of our inner resources, patience, and humor intact to make it the rest of the way through the dark days of Winter.

With the first sensing of the coming of Spring at Mid Winter, we find ourselves antsy, anxious to emerge from our inward focus already. We strain toward the annual vernal miracle of rebirth and resurrection. Yearn for the light. But it isn't yet time for Spring, and, despite whatever prognostication the ground hog might make, Spring is never early or late. Spring always starts right on time. But first we have to finish Winter.

Enjoy the rest of the dark period. Take advantage of the slowness and introspection that it offers us."

Friday, February 1, 2013

a 1939s picture from and even older photo

"I am what I am and that all that I am."  said Popeye the sailor man, who's speech I never could understand, then again were we supposed to?
Who was this lady, there is a name and  and location on the back of the postcard.  It was pretty common to have a postcard made from a real photo,   it was a way of keeping up with the news in those days when the penny postcard was the text message of it's time.  People could, and did,  carried on long distance conversations that way.
She looks so confident standing there with her hands on her hips, as if poised to ask a question or make a joke, perhaps she is going to tease someone, or even scold them.  Or is just surprised to be having her picture made?  Happy to see a daughter,or son grandchild, great grandchild , sibling , cousin of friend, or just to greet a neighbor or lodger.   Could she just be happy to feel the warmth of the sun on her face?
All that we know for sure is that someone thought enough of this picture to have a copy made of an older photo, and someone or several someones kept it until the present time . 

slightly wordy Slent Sunday on a road

Not every picture is worth a thousand words, but the memory it represents is.