Frost-lace and Sunshine!
This morning I woke up to frost on the ground. The pattern of frost on the rosettes of leaves on the tips of the evergreen candytuft was breathtaking, like the most fragile lace imaginable.My landlord was grabbing some last minute items from the barn, heading out this morning with his sons to the Royal Winter Agricultural Fair in Toronto. The boys' calves qualified, apparently, so off they go to the Big one.
I envy them. Perhaps I'll have time to get to the fair this weekend myself. Me, I'll want to look at the sheep (re my interests in spinning) and the rare breed chickens (I'm fascinated by the wonderful colour patterns of their feathers)!
The sun has warmed up quite a bit by now and the frost is gone off the ground. I can't believe I forgot to buy coffee last night. I stopped at a 24-hr grocery in town on my way home from work, to pick up dog food. There are no such conveniences here out in the country where I live. But then, the quiet nights are one of the pluses I opted for, living in the country.
On my way home I was terribly distracted by the northern lights again, once I got north of the light pollution of the city. I found myself wandering across the lanes more than once. Apparently this is a time of a lot of explosive activity on the sun.
I've read a lot of sadness and frustration by 'lefties' online and in other media. I have felt for a long time, however, that there really isn't a viable liberal political voice to be found in either Canadian or American politics. I read an article today on the New Left Review site that puts my ideas into words better than I can. Alexander Cockburn: Surrendering Quietly It is a very interesting article.
My user name, it just occurred to me, might not make sense to anyone, unless you know a bit more of what I'm about. Not that I have "arrived" at the kind of life I want to lead, but I'm working on it. This poem, which I found at Mary Janes Farm, expresses why I believe in real mud. I started thinking about what real work feels like when, many years ago, I first read the book Finding Flow, by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi .
Current Mood: energetic
Current Music: Mercedes Sosa: Gracias a la Vida
I envy them. Perhaps I'll have time to get to the fair this weekend myself. Me, I'll want to look at the sheep (re my interests in spinning) and the rare breed chickens (I'm fascinated by the wonderful colour patterns of their feathers)!
The sun has warmed up quite a bit by now and the frost is gone off the ground. I can't believe I forgot to buy coffee last night. I stopped at a 24-hr grocery in town on my way home from work, to pick up dog food. There are no such conveniences here out in the country where I live. But then, the quiet nights are one of the pluses I opted for, living in the country.
On my way home I was terribly distracted by the northern lights again, once I got north of the light pollution of the city. I found myself wandering across the lanes more than once. Apparently this is a time of a lot of explosive activity on the sun.
I've read a lot of sadness and frustration by 'lefties' online and in other media. I have felt for a long time, however, that there really isn't a viable liberal political voice to be found in either Canadian or American politics. I read an article today on the New Left Review site that puts my ideas into words better than I can. Alexander Cockburn: Surrendering Quietly It is a very interesting article.
My user name, it just occurred to me, might not make sense to anyone, unless you know a bit more of what I'm about. Not that I have "arrived" at the kind of life I want to lead, but I'm working on it. This poem, which I found at Mary Janes Farm, expresses why I believe in real mud. I started thinking about what real work feels like when, many years ago, I first read the book Finding Flow, by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi .
Current Mood: energetic
Current Music: Mercedes Sosa: Gracias a la Vida
posted by Kati at 2:17 a.m.
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