Isolation as a fairy tale experience, in that purposeful or accidental time away from the world can be transformative. Lots of stories, both mythic and fictional bear that stamp. Perhaps now after almost three months mostly apart, I can begin to do more than grieve for what I have lost. What are the gifts within this? I have no idea, yet...
I grew up holding tightly to keeping silent as a way of safety, learning as a very young child that being other was dangerous, even deadly. That has ever been a painful part of who I am, but buried deeply. Any sort of visibility was endangerment. I cannot know what it would be like to have a difference always visible. Now, I wonder if the collective we can create a world where none will need to keep silent, a world where difference either visible or invisible is not just accepted but celebrated. That would be a true renaissance indeed.
Yesterday was Crafternoon-zoom, and it was a long afternoon into evening of online hanging out with assorted friends. I chose to finally return to my long-neglected rubakha embroidery project, and while chatting and listening, I managed to make excellent progress on the elaborate cuff decoration (arched designs in the lower left of photo). While I still have no idea when there will ever be realtime SCA events, and strongly doubt that there will be a 12th Night 2021 to wear fancy garb to, just making something exist that could be worn in an unknown future is a kind of prayer to the possibility of improvement.
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Appletree appletree, three bags full! This week I pruned the apple tree and thinned the fruit sending three big bags into the yard waste bin, though a second glance made it obvious to me yesterday that there were still some areas on the tree that needed a bit more pruning and thinning. I do not want to have a repeat of what happened last year, where a third of the tree cracked and broke off because too many apples! I would rather get smaller numbers of apples but large and tasty ones, and have the tree continue to survive. That poor tree has had so many problems (with grafts dying, assorted apple diseases, my novice pruning attempts, losing a third of its limbs, and a large crack in the trunk) since I planted it fourteen years ago, but it persists, blooms, and fruits nonetheless
Seen yesterday while out walking... I keep holding on to a belief that within and beneath all the necessary turmoil and disruption of the former reality is hope for a just and loving world for all. Birthing is painful and messy, but change has got to happen.
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All the bramble fruit from the freezer, which wasn't much, since there are no feral blackberries nearby, turned into bramble syrup. Annoying as it is to strain out the seedy bits, I'd rather not get bramble seeds wedged in my teeth, as a trip to the dentist is
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June SMART goals (x=extra)
| # | THINGS MADE | THINGS FIXED | THINGS GONE |
| 1 | 5½ pints rhubarb sauce | apple tree pruned | rotten beams |
| 2 | 20 masks for Tullia | apples thinned | frozen blueberries |
| 3 | 2¾ pints blueberry sauce | x | yard waste bin |
| 4 | 3 half-pints bramble syrup | x | - |
| 5 | x | x | - |
| 6 | x | x | - |
| 7 | x | x | - |
| 8 | x | x | x |
| 9 | x | x | x |
| 10 | x | x | x |
| 11 | x | x | x |
| 12 | x | x | x |
| 13 | x | x | x |
| 14 | x | x | x |
| 15 | x | x | x |
today's gratitude - Terri Windling, of the most excellent blog Myth & Moor, as well as author and artist, has always given me food for thought and delight, as well as time and again had exactly what I need to be brought to my attention







































