Pet sounds...

Our chickens choose the morning to most entertain me.
Chickens in turn appear entertained by two male
robins fighting in the bright green grass over a potential mate.
The cats vying for a morning, "treat."
Crows in commute from north to south.
Cats crisscrossing through their marked territory.
We've been visited by deer, partridge, opossum
and raccoon and also a dog who stopped by to steal any
shoe left on the porch. Chipmunks and squirrel play
through the day and watching the bats fly overhead at night
are all equally welcomed. Skunks numbers at night equal the
 number of cats by day.

There is a porch that has given me countless hours of enjoyment but it has become loud and busy. The most traveled road through town. Transportation variants rule over the sounds of nature.

It is all life. It's the form that distracts. It creates a discord in energy, subtle in it's deception. Like loud children in the classroom it disrupts what there may be to learn. And oh, one can push through, and still hear, and still learn. But how superior by their absence?

The house is for sale. A new TaoSpring will arise more grand than before.

Karmann Ghia

Easter questions...

I recently purchased a traditional felt Pork Pie. (half price on clearance) I've been a hat man all of my life. I've worn berets and fedoras, Irish caps and a Glengarry bonnet. Years of wearing baseball caps doesn't count. I wasn't sure if liked this departure from my usual leather cap. But I'm finding that it's beginning to grow me.

 It's an amusing thing about how this hat is worn. It puts the center bowl if I may, lightly touching the crown of the head while the inside rim cradles the circumference of the head like a halo;  making it feel rather kingly or heavenly in some way. It being that I'm a Leo and that the clan who's motto, "Royal is my race" lurks somewhere in my veins, I guess it's only natural. True, I often feel that way without the hat. But.... the hat helps to bring my angelic nobility out.

You're supposed to laugh...

I'm different. I know that. I myself have called it by many things, yet in spite of my differences, I seem to easily become a Roman when in Rome whenever and wherever Rome may lie. One label that I would not apply to myself is that I am smart. I'm shown daily of just how little I know which is probably true for most of us.

But I am often surprised by a certain ignorance of local, world, and religious history that I thought everyone knew. The greater population around me seems to know little of the local history of Mary Rowlandson or Daniel Shays. They know little of the building of the Quabbin reservoir nor the politics behind said history. They know nothing of the Millerites, and nothing about the Protestant Reformation.

And although I didn't expect anyone to know about the origins of Easter outside of Christianity, I was surprised by the child-like answers regarding the Christian version as well. All about a rock that rolled away and ashes being worn on the forehead and something about three days. There were few that knew a little more but nothing like the recital by the resident Christian who can rattle a well told story high in rote and little in understanding.

I'm reading a biography of Teddy Roosevelt while it seems that many others are reading horror, romance or fantasy. I yearn to hear some words of wisdom from a Krishnamurti  or Watts. I love a good Michener tale. That's just me and that's just them. And I'm not judging them or myself. It's an observation. Subjective to core I'm sure.

Duh.

Wisdom of the Monkey King and the many Buddhas

Chickens busy means eggs aplenty

New England winters can turn on a dime. Warm, cold, snow, rain, ice, sun. Changes can occur within a span of hours. Our latest storm dropped a fluffy twenty nine inches with Monday calling for temperatures in the forties accompanied by rain.

Oh-oh.

We will have a mess on our hands.

But I think the biggest challenge facing our girls is boredom - not the weather. They are a hearty lot but they are still prone to frostbite and temperatures even too cold for good New England stock. So one does need to keep an eye out.

Katie was found in a ball and most unresponsive but a few weeks ago. She enjoys coming to the "big house" but it was apparent that she was not pulling a fast one. Not this time anyway. Once inside it took hours to bring her around. But within a day, she was singing the blues like Mamie Smith.

They will pick through straw for hours. Especially when littered with corn. A head of cabbage hung like soap on a rope. Treats and warm water laced with molasses. Spending time with them offers catharsis for us and for them. The friendlies come forward, the prudes will avoid you and the few weird ones will run for their lives.

I snowplowed a circle outside the coop's door. I spread a thin layer of straw and peppered it with corn and layer pellets. They began walking the circle like masters of Baguazhang; flapping their wings, squawking and behaving like the masters (matrons?) of their domain. No boredom here. Chickens being chickens. No thought of cold or thirst or pecking order.

When the shoe fits the foot is forgotten.

And the eggs are a plentiful. Even in winter. And in that, I AM well pleased.

February 10th will be the start of the Chinese New Year. The year of the snake. As memory serves, the day before was traditionally a day to clean and set things in order. The evening was a time of reunion. It sounded to me that it resembled our thanksgiving.
Feast and family and all that it entails.
Dynamics.
History.
The circle of life in a full view, yet not often understood or valued until the circle has turned closer to our own 365.
Since my divorce, that which I miss most is when my four children came home with their friends, husband and boyfriends, girlfriends and children. Overlooking the "human pigeon" behavior of my heroin addicted son and the drunken behavior of my now ex wife, it was almost perfect in it's family imperfection.
Simplicity and movement within the cycle of life has become almost unknown; and I too am at present, among the masses.
I will however roll along to find that which is down will be once again be, up" like the hands of time. A round spiral.
And all is good.

2012 gone. 2013 here we come!

Normally, we do not so much look at things
as overlook them - Watts

Simple. Simple is good. Not the kind of simple as in Uncle Stan who was once arrested for simply trying to buy a burrito at midnight, with no money, in his underwear, with a beer in his hand.
No, I mean simple. As in possessing "all of your needs and some of your wants." I never take for granted the shoes on my feet. A hot shower. A laugh with friends or family.
Wake up.
It IS the simple things in life that give life it's meaning...........