Western Skies

Friday's music was of an epic love which may or may not end happily. Sunday's was about an epic task, one that takes all a person has but that they will finish come hell or high water.

Today's is a song more about real life inspired by the land and people where I live and love. Take me out of the west (although strictly speaking it's probably from the Plains to the Cascades, I define it as reaching to the Pacific Ocean) and I'd wither. I know my roots, where I was born and where my ashes should be spread and it can be anywhere under--

Western Skies

If you write a blog, you know how they have a way of taking over, just as writing fiction will do. What was planned is not always what happens. Such is the case here when I thought of this song, then of the man who sang it, the land where he lived, and suddenly the blog expanded.

Not everyone is a fan of western music, but I am among those who are. Chris LeDoux, who died way too early in March 2005 of a rare form of liver cancer, was the real deal in terms of his character, singing and cowboy lifestyle . He had ridden rodeo in his younger years. He and the love of his life raised their family on a ranch in the same country where Butch Cassidy had one of his hideouts-- Kaycee, Wyoming.

In 1998, before I had heard of LeDoux but was very interested in seeing more of the country through which Butch Cassidy rode, I made a brief trip through the Powder River country getting as close as I could to the Hole in the Wall. In the town of Kaycee was this wonderful little museum full of western information and memorabilia. This area, Johnson County, was also a region of struggles between big cattlemen and homesteaders.

Because of the reminder of Kaycee, I dug into my drawer of photos and scanned a few from that trip (back in the days before digital made this all so much easier) and will share them tomorrow as there are few parts of the west as beautiful as Kaycee and none prettier in my opinion.

Red River

"There's three times in a man's life when he has a right to yell at the moon: when he marries, when his children come, and... and when he finishes a job he had to be crazy to start."
said by Mr. Melville (Harry Carey) in the film Red River.

As there are with the friendships we have made, the things we have done, there are those films that pass right on through after one viewing (if we're lucky); while others stay inside for a lifetime. Red River, starring John Wayne and Montgomery Clift, is in the latter category for me. It has a soundtrack that to me is the gold standard of movie soundtracks. While I generally feel most western soundtracks are great, it's at the top of any list.

When I went looking for a video for Red River, I found this YouTube. Only rarely do I read the comments below but this time I was rewarded when I learned Amazon now has the full soundtrack available. I skipped over as fast as my keyboard would take me and ordered Dimitri Tiomkin composer, William T. Stromberg conductor and Moscow Symphony Orchestra for the full soundtrack of the 1948 film, Red River.

Acquiring this particular soundtrack is a big deal for me. I have a lot of them. Mostly whenever I choose to use music to paint or write by, it's a soundtrack. I like them for how their soaring melodies play certain emotional strings, and (the ones I choose) for how they have no words to get in the way of my own ideas.

For years I have enjoyed the shortened version of Red River's soundtrack for bringing to life feelings of grandeur, of someone taking on a job that they know they can't succeed at but they stick with it anyway, for feelings of strength, and now I have the whole soundtrack to provide that inspiration. If you have seen the film, you know its soundtrack is like another character.

Maybe this year I will learn to do music montages such as are on YouTube; so I can create my own. I bought the software but haven't taken the time to learn how to use it. For now, someone else's creativity will have to do.

Red River

Some flooding in the valley

After heavy rains about half of Thursday night, the rivers, in my part of the Coast Range and Willamette Valley, reached their peak flood stage Friday afternoon (for now), and it wasn't too bad. Definitely out of the banks but no damage to homes at least not ones that aren't flooded every time the sky sniffles.

The Portland Hydrologic Prediction Service (something I didn't even know existed until Fisherman (Parapluie's mate) sent it to me) said these rivers will not go over the 30' stage which is where we would potentially be talking about serious flooding.
Although it went over a few roads, it quickly retreated and tonight will be cold, drying it up further. When we drove out to the wildlife refuge, we saw very few birds, but on the way they seemed to be in almost all the (relatively) dry grass fields-- something that doesn't endear them to the farmers. No photos though as too far from the road.

These photos are all from Friday. You would have no way of knowing but all except the ones of the creek below, are in what normally would be pastures and grasslands-- definitely not lakes. Our creek has done a lot of damage to the trees along its banks, eroded a few places, but generally stayed in its banks.

Unchained Melody

In my part of the Pacific Northwest, because of very heavy rains, there has been water water everywhere. (I guess you could drink it but I wouldn't suggest it.) Because I live on a creek, flooding is always a possibility when the conditions have been right. They predict, downstream from the farm, that local flood crest will come in the afternoon.

Currently the creek below my house sounds like a river and is just barely outside its banks. The closest it has ever gotten to the house has been to the edge of the driveway (the year of the sandbags), but it seems unlikely it'll come that close this week. Still definitely not the pretty season on the creek as the muddy water rushes past.

This is the season of long nights, of lots of hay for the cattle and sheep, of carrying in firewood to feed fires, of cats staring outside in disappointment or looking in the french door with their noses pressed against the glass-- like why did you let me out?

For me, this has always been the season for evaluating last year, fixing what I can fix, and devising plans to change what isn't working. It is a season where I look for inspiration many places and among them would be movies (more about them in the future) and music. Because I have the blog, it seemed a good time to look for videos to fit some of those songs that speak to my soul. YouTube is such a wonderful resource for creatively using music.

To begin, here is one for all those who have loved and had it work out and just as true for when it did not--

Unchained Melody with the Righteous Brothers

Happy New Year

So what do you think? are there enough things to worry about in 2009? No? Okay, let's add a few to the list. How about--

Yellowstone Quake Swarm. This is one they give us every so often as Yellowstone is a super volcano which if it should erupt, would rearrange the climate of the world.

In terms of worrying, Most experts don't feel it's worthy of breaking out into a sweat given this happens regularly. The eruption, however, happens every 600,000 years. How long since the last?

Thinking about it possibly happening, however, might help to put current worries into perspective (incidentally, it would probably end any problem that whoever was left might have with global warming).
So, how about Igor Panarin, a Russian analyst, who has been predicting the United States will fall into civil war over our current economic crises leading to a break up of the country. He saw it dividing into four countries with China taking one, Europe taking another, Mexico getting a third (where will they go for jobs), and Canada taking what is left over. Would this come under the category of good news or bad? Russian wish list?


So if that didn't cheer you up yet, well--

HAPPY NEW YEAR!
May 2009 be good to you and yours.

The Me and We Conflict

When I reach the last days of a year, for me, it has significance. It's not meaningful seasonally as that is about Solstices and equinoxes. It's just an artificial calendar devised by man; but we can use a time (arbitrary or otherwise) to stop and take stock. It is the time I often revise my goals for the year to come. I don't call them goals so much as intentions. Who do I want to be? What do I want to do? What actions will help me be the woman I want?

This year, I've been thinking of something else: how do these goals apply to me and we? It can be a basic, political and philosophical difference that goes beyond families or cultures to religions where some believe we each face god's judgment alone while others believe we are reincarnated as soul fragments and how we treat our brother might end up part of a next lifetime in a lot more real way than a reincarnation of the whole soul. Culture or individual?

In our two main political parties, there is also a different way of seeing me and we. How many times have we heard Republicans say you can manage your money better than the collective we through government. How effectively, you will build bridges, airports, highways, schools, railroads, power grids, has been shown through the last eight years when none of that was done and we are facing a deteriorating system.

Right wingers like Rush Limbaugh have pushed an agenda of me as a way to build their own power bases. They say-- as I make me strong, everyone else will be too. If this doesn't work out to be true, it's the other guy's fault for weakening individuals. To those who think this way, only through individuals does power come.

The opposing party's claims can be just as misused when it becomes somebody else can do it for me and I don't have to do anything but wait. We then means somebody else. Where we working together is strong, me either only thinking about me or waiting for someone else to fix something, is damaging.

So I cannot ignore my personal goals, but also must think what 'we' goals are important to support. Theoretically I might convince myself I don't have to do any of that because someone else will. I could take care of my own little community, my own family, my own impact zone, the areas where I receive praise for what I do; but is that enough? It seems to me we have seen how well that works when we are uninvolved on the larger scale. Can each little community stand alone or must each concern itself also with the broader community?

Okay an example of how I see this applied is in the recent imbroglio of Obama choosing Rick Warren to give the invocation at the inauguration. This isn't going away any time soon and how important is it to me? Where does it impact we?

To start, Warren has some good qualities. He has put 90% of his income back into good works, and it's not just evangelizing but actually working on things like poverty and disease. He even gets it that there are global climate questions, and that the environment is a spiritual responsibility.

Christopher Hitchens expressed his reservations at the invitation based on the fundamentalist angle, which Warren pretty clearly is. Warren has stated Jews won't get into heaven. Most christianists would also say that admittance is only through accepting Jesus which lets out anybody but themselves. That's no surprise nor is it news.

Warren's worst quality to those who supported Obama is a biggie, and it's the reason for the brouhaha. He has the christianist view of homosexuality. He has taken some parts of the Bible, as many others have along with him, and equated it with meaning all homosexuality is forbidden, sinful and must be fought against by penalties that, if no longer criminal, are still punishment oriented.

Warren and people like him are as bigoted about the homosexual as at one time similar types were about racial differences. They all ignore nature and use the Bible like a hammer based on their own interpretation of its verses. Warren has gone so far as to compare gays with those having sex with beasts or children (he has recently taken that text out of his site but it was there). It's not surprising that homosexuals are feeling as though Obama just slapped them in the face.

It would be possible to be neutral on this if it doesn't impact me individually. I mean I am not a gay; so should I care? Why I do and should is the we that impacts us all. It is why those, who see it differently than I do, also care. I wrote quite a bit on this earlier, during the campaign, because I have looked at these scriptures that christianists are using and I see there is another way to interpret them-- a way that to me makes more sense.

[This is for those who use the Bible as gospel and can be skipped by anyone who doesn't believe they must do something based on a preacher's interpretation of it. I am going to skip over the Old Testament. If you are living your life based on it, you aren't reading my blog anyway.

Instead take a quick look at Romans 1:22-32 (you can find it online if you do not have a home Bible). If you look at it without prejudice and without an assumption as to what it has to mean, you will see that what Romans is talking about are people doing a lot of very bad things-- greed, malice, murder, strife, deceit, and the list goes on. This isn't about same sex people who are living a quality life together as couples. This is about rank promiscuity and the opposite of what gays are fighting to attain.

I believe there will come a day when that scripture will be re-evaluated by even people like Rick Warren. It already has by many ministers to see that what most homosexuals want is the very opposite of what this scripture is talking about.

This penalizing 'we' are trying to deny people ordinary lives, the respect and legal rights of society at large. And why has this happened? Because little 'me' has the idea that it either threatens him/her or makes them more righteous somehow.

What has gone on where it comes to homosexuals is crazy. If you know homosexual couples, you know how crazy it is. I believe it will be seen as as crazy someday as it now is to deny blacks and whites intermarriage based on misinterpretations of other scriptures. In my opinion, the christianist interpretation of the scriptures is ignorant and wrong.]

Before Obama's debate with him, about all I knew about Rick Warren was he'd written a best-selling book, The Purpose-Filled Life, which I didn't like when I scanned over a bit of it.

President-Elect Obama is a young man who has looked for meaning in his life and found it through Christianity. He has not appeared to me to be a christianist but that is yet to be seen for sure. He has sought out various spiritual mentors. Rev. Wright, was another who preached alienation in some ways but also had a message of good works. Obama's talking about his Christian faith has never been a plus where I am concerned. I understand that his belief is bound to impact some choices-- like the Warren one-- or maybe he knows something about Warren that the rest of us will learn.

After I wrote most of this, I saw a column by Frank Rich in Sunday's New York Times criticizing Obama for the choice; and one by Melissa Etheridge saying the choice is now ours and let's see where this goes with a totally different slant.

This applies to we/me thinking because we are impacted by unfairness to anyone. Denying homosexuals the right to adopt children, as Arkansas just did, or to have legal marriages or unions as we recently saw with Florida and California but many states like Oregon earlier, to me, that's been flat out wrong. Unfairness hurts all of us.

Obama may have made a mistake in inviting Warren or maybe his invitation will lead to Warren looking again at those scriptures; but it will be what Obama does next that matters most. He now has the power to work to right some big wrongs. It will be the good for all of us if he does. If he doesn't, then I think we all have to stand with our gay brothers and sisters against this unfairness and make it politically untenable to treat one group of people as inferiors. If it has profited some to take on a christianist view of marriage, then we need to see it stops profiting them.

That was just one example of how me/we works. I am not leaving behind my 'me' concerns as I make goals for 2009 that reflect things taking me closer to being who I want to be; but I also am not going to forget the we issues that matter to our culture as a whole, that will impact the world in which my grandchildren grow up. The election is over, but the real work has just begun. Concerns can't just be about what benefits me but what is good for us. When we think that way, that's when we will see real change and it will benefit me/we as it happens.

My 65th Christmas

For me, there is something about holidays that seems to be like living markers for how they click off time. It occurred to me this year that I have celebrated 65 Christmases. How the heck could that be? 65 once seemed very very old and now here I am, and I am not sure what it seems like.

I don't remember the time from 1944 (except maybe in my subconscious), but it looks like I was really into the idea of opening presents. I have gone from that one year old being me, to the 65 year old, Christmas afternoon, walking up the road above the farm. One was opening the gift of life and the other, well, in the winter of her life, she still is.

In between were a lot of holiday dinners, a lot of changes, a lot of people who have come and gone through my holidays. That is as amazing to me as realizing I really have had so many Christmases.

Since I turned 60, I have said I am old. I knew it chronologically was true; but although I would say it, I didn't really feel it. Saying it was a way to prepare myself for what was inevitably coming, to acknowledge the changes. I could still visibly hide my age. My grandson asked me why my hair was gray. I said it's because I am old and added that I could dye my hair. I did not tell him but I knew I could also have surgeries to temporarily at least take away sags and wrinkles; but it wouldn't change anything real to do that. This body and brain will still be 65 years old, donning masks or not.

For me, this is not a melancholy awareness, but more about change. I find it more interesting than depressing. Day by day it's not so noticeable, except in little things, until I see another year has gone by through markers like Christmas, New Years, birthdays, and I look to see the changes in my face, know the differences in my body, and realize more is coming-- choose it or not.

Some tell me aging is in the mind. I would like them to show me one person where this proved to be true-- except in fiction. We might age at different rates, but we all do age. There is something about being old that makes people tend to think they should deny it.

People say things like-- I am young at heart. That doesn't make sense. We say someone is an old soul, recognizing something deeper in them; and then turn around and not realize an old person might have more heart awareness than a child. Does innocence necessarily disappear with age? Wouldn't it be more accurate to say I am old at heart? There is a beauty in age that we deny when we deny being old.

When we are old, as we have experienced loss, as we have seen the value of life, as we have seen so many changes, only when we know we will be leaving it sooner than later, only then can we really appreciate all that is and has been. The days are more precious when there are less of them ahead and we can remember all the good ones behind. What a treasure I have from all those Christmases that changed so much and left behind me, for now, to remember them. Yes, it's easy to get teary but in a positive way.


Isn't aging a bit like going through a gate? I suppose there isn't just one gateway but a series of them as life shifts and changes. It is, however, the road to the final gateway-- the one where we leave life.

I think about life's beginning and end especially at Christmas when I remember the ones who have already gone through the last gate. Again, it's not so much to be sad but more to just be aware and make the most of the days we have. Live each stage of life fully for what it is instead of denying it.

Since I always love to photograph gates, these are two new ones from this last week's snowfall. The first (at the back) open and the last (by the house) yet to be opened.

Dreaming of the cabin again

Make custom Glitter Graphics

There are the wish-I-could-have-it dreams and the nighttime-who-knows-what-it-means dreams. This cabin represents the former-- the daydreams where we visualize a life we would like but perhaps never will have.

Although I frequently dream of houses, interesting, sometimes interesting ones (last month I climbed some stairs to an attic where there were many dollhouses, interesting, elaborate and fully furnished dollhouses), I have never had a nighttime dream of this cabin. I have dreamed of houses at the beach with fantastic views, mansions, homes that were inns, houses with many rooms, sometimes one hidden room after another, but never this cabin. It's my fantasy home and only comes to me in daydreams.

I can imagine what is around it, the valley where it sits, the cattle down by the river off in the distance, the quiet that settles in at night. I know what it looks like once I walk inside the door. There is a fire in a big stone fireplace. The kitchen is small but effective where I can cook a delicious dinner while sipping a glass of Merlot. In front of that fireplace is a big fluffy rug where a person can sit or lie and watch the fire. In one corner is an easel for my painting. The master bedroom is upstairs (with a second bathroom-- even in daydreams I am somewhat practical.)

For awhile I looked for this cabin with the hope it was meant to be in my life. Real estate agents have shown me many places but nothing was ever it. When the house was right, the surroundings were wrong. It takes a small house on a good piece of land.

I finally have faced it that my cabin is not meant to be reality but is just a daydream where I can go when I need to escape.

Christmas morning

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Christmas morning the farm had both a rare (for us) white Christmas and a beautiful sunrise. Icy enough to make walking around not exactly easy, I took these photos from the house and the garden. This particular snowfall has been very pretty, lots of beautiful photos but has inconvenienced so many people and ruined so many plans that it was not very welcome-- not that anyone asks. The sunrise though I can only say it was an appreciated gift.

Bethlehem Morning

Believers or not, Christmas has something for everyone if they simply let the meaning of it become more important than the frills that have come to define it. It is harder for many of us today because we have (in my opinion) had a fundamentalist avalanche of expectations and distortions often losing what that message was about. Don't we all want unconditional love? It's no wonder this story of such a love has resonated through the centuries.

Jesus was not born in December-- assuming he was born with any possible resemblance to the story most of us have been taught. The story has been so covered in mythologies, which may or may not be historic, that the message has often been all but forgotten.

At Christmas, whether you think about Santa Claus or an infant child, the story is about a gift. To celebrate Christmas, does it matter if there is a physical, historical reality attached to any of it if we instead celebrate the kind of love that offers without asking anything in return? It can take a lifetime to really understand the meaning of that kind of love.

The first time I heard the following song, a definitely religious one, was in a small country church. It was a crowded Christmas service and I was up in the balcony. Our pastor at that time sang it and chills went down my spine as it soared through that small sanctuary. Today my perspective on what happened in Bethlehem might have changed but not my belief in what it stands for, the kind of love that gives all, that lasts as long as life itself and just possibly beyond.

Bethlehem Morning

I can't resist adding this version because the male vocalist sings it as well as that pastor did the first time I heard it.

Bethlehem Morning by Hugh Jackman in concert

What comes after a pretty snow

Do we draw to us what we worry about, or do we worry about something based on experience?

The answer to that question is one about which philosophers write books. From my observations, life provides no definitive answers (so far). If I had not remembered all the silver thaws I have seen, if I had believed the weathermen and kept a positive outlook, would the electricity still have gone out on our road last night? I don't have any for sure answer to that question but a theory-- which is be prepared for the possibility of repeating negative trends which often are beyond our physical control.

Sunday, about noon, we started to drive into town with the knowledge that while we still had plenty of snow, it (a mere 25 miles SE of us) had none. I had my first second thought when I felt a thin ice glazing on our gate; but farm boss said it meant nothing-- purely remanants. Snow and ice brings out the pioneer spirit in Farm Boss, which is a mixed blessing but he definitely is a positive thinker.

By the time we had driven about 10 miles, we saw a silver thaw developing. All the bushes were coated and turning that beautiful-- coated in ice look that means uh oh to anybody who has been around one. Based on past experiences, but hoping still for the best (weatherman predicted warming), Farm Boss decided it was best to turn around. Past experience trumped hope as it didn't warm up.

When I told farm boss that afternoon that he had to find the kerosene lamps, which neither of us remembered where they had been stashed, he was irked with me. Why do we need those right now? Pioneer spirit was getting in the way of a nap he had in mind. He finally found two of them (one is still misplaced) and was less irked a few hours later when we had them ready to use after the power went out for the second (and for Sunday) final time.

Between them, candles, woodstove, and fireplace, we had an okay evening even if less enjoyable than usual. What did people do in the evenings before electricity? Actually not an inappropriate way to end the darkest day of the year, the longest night, as it provided plenty of opportunity to stare into a fire meditating on when it would finally be time to go to bed.

No clue how long this will last as the weathermen had predicted 41 for Sunday... Yeah right as our power is still out this morning which is when Farm Boss set up the generator which enables basic cooking, keeping lights on, the computer, and/or television if we so desire (until we run out of gasoline). Heat is from the woodstove and hot water? What's that?

Although it's snowing again this morning, the frigid weather won't last forever. Will it? I can remember a few times where we had a week without electricity (one of them without a woodstove); and I have heard parts of New England are enduring one of those. So, yes I know it could be worse-- much worse.

Sometimes thinking positive is easier said than done, but experience tells me this too will pass. In the meantime-- ugh; and that song I always love so much at this time of the year, White Christmas, well, for now at least, it has lost its appeal.

Happy Hanukkah-- חנוכה

to all who celebrate the Jewish holiday
for the miracle of the oil that lasted 8 days

Winter Solstice

When our kids grew up and left home, then had their own homes or other families, when our parents died, how Christmas was celebrated began to change. There had been many years of big traditional dinners, sometimes twenty or more and often including nearby friends. I loved cooking those meals, setting up the tables, table cloths, china, sometimes silver and creating an experience that all would enjoy. I didn't give it up by choice, but times change.

This year, around Thanksgiving, I realized, because of those changes, I didn't have any enthusiasm for decorating. Incidentally from the day I got married, I have realized that the type of Christmas decorations has been more about my desires than Farm Boss's. He appreciates what I do and helps put things out, but it's been my inspiration because it never was really his thing.

The first Christmas we were married, my parents gave us some small Nativity figures which became part of every Christmas. There were assorted Christmas ornaments that came from both our families. Somewhere along the way, an Advent wreathe entered the scene (one Christmas morning, a candle on it tipped over and put an interesting burned mark in the front of one of the hutches-- fortunately seen before more damage was done).

Through the years, I accumulated a set of Christmas village houses and businesses, then came a Santa village with reindeer and elves. That meant putting out cotton snow and setting up the villages, turning them on every night to create a small fantasy world. Decorating for Christmas was an all-out effort and parts of it were throughout the house.

We had stopped doing any tree some years back, but the rest continued until this year. My lack of interest wasn't for a religious reason. I have no problem saying Merry Christmas to all. The decorating though wasn't something I wanted to do.

In the past Farm Boss or I would go out around the farm and cut armloads of greenery. I'd put out the first ones around Thanksgiving and would have to redo the whole thing at least once and sometimes twice to keep it from becoming flammable. Worse they often seemed to irritate both Farm Boss's and my allergies.

I had known there were artificial trees and swags but how real did that seem? Each year though they were getting better and that led to my desire for an artificial garland for the fireplace mantle which is never a good place for real greens with frequent fires below. I'd just do that one thing... except was so pleasing that it led to purchasing another... and well I won't say how many but they were half off :)

When I began putting them around, with a few small angels, who had missed being put into the Christmas box last year, using the Buddha, the Kachinas, some small natural elements like birds, I saw something happening I had not planned. This was not Christmas oriented but rather Solstice and that felt really good.

It was using natural materials (okay they look natural) with lots of white candles, a couple of spirit guides, symbols of spiritual influences on this home, pine cones collected over many years, and it felt right to be welcoming, as have so many pagans before me, the shortest day of the year, today, with the joy of knowing from this day onward, the days will be lengthening if ever so slightly.

Christ might not have been born in December, we might wonder how we ended up with such an out of control holiday at a time of the year when we have so little energy and so many colds, but Solstice, now that is something nobody can debate when it should be celebrated (if they might argue over whether it should be).

This has felt liberating because it was fully letting go of past expectations and finding what suited today. When I am working around the house, I think, yes, this is good. Next year the Christmas villages and all the rest might come back but only if that feels good.

Christmas cards

Choosing Christmas cards with care has always been one of my things. Sometimes their message has been religious, sometimes nature oriented, and others, like this year are about country life. I almost never buy them a year ahead, even knowing I'd save money, because I might not feel that card when the time came (or more likely, I'd have forgotten where I stuck the boxes).

Unfortunately this year, although I bought cards I liked at our farm store (created by Leanin' Tree), I felt no corresponding enthusiasm when the time came to write them... and then passed the time to send them. Some of that I can blame on an early December bronchial cold that made it no fun for a week and a half; but I've had other years where I just couldn't convince myself to sit down and write cards (this even with doing the addresses with computer labels).

Since I have owned a computer, I have sent Christmas letters along with the cards-- until this year. It wasn't a shortage of photographs or good things to write about. Frankly I just didn't feel like doing it. A month ago I decided I would include a family picture from July which possibly distant family and friends would like better anyway (justification in full swing). Not doing a Christmas letter actually meant more work. I'd have to write more than our names on them. Good Lord, do I even remember how to write letters anymore? You can see how this has been going.

These are this year's cards-- so pretend you just got whichever you prefer (hopefully a few on our list will also). The messages were similar but this was my favorite.

Wherever we may journey and however far we roam,
in this joyful, blessed season, our hearts always head home.

For waiting at the trail's end we know we're sure to find
the warmth of hearth and family and friends that come to mind.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Even the Buddha looks cold

It looks like the farm will stay cold with some potential for rain but then snow again through the week-end. This is not good news as in this part of Oregon, we are used to snow that lasts a day at the most. Camelot, what went wrong? I can't blame it on global climate change as I remember many winters like this growing up and even when I had small children. Just it had changed, and we have been spoiled.

When it's like this, there are certain obvious opportunities (if you don't have to drive to the doctor, go to work, feed livestock, or get supplies). You can stay inside and just enjoy the beauty. Look out the window. Make quick forays into it, knocking off the snow as you return. Take a nap. Create a painting. Go for a walk. Photograph it. Build a bigger fire in the fireplace. Put out more birdseed and watch (photograph) the birds. Whine along with other Northwesterners about how terrible this is (yes, we know other parts of the country have this kind of condition every year). Fill some buckets of water just in case the power goes out (if you don't have a well, you won't know why we do this but think about it a bit).

This has been an excellent packing snow which would be good for snowball fights (I stopped doing those the year I got hit too hard by one of Farm Boss's missiles. He didn't understand that you do this for fun, not kills), make a great snowman/woman; but I kind of like the look of untouched snow (except where we, cats, birds, and sheep have been making trails through it).

I did though make a snow angel. In recent years we haven't had enough snow to make this possible. It's simple to do if you are one of the few who have never done it. You fall back in the snow, lying flat out (nearly a foot of snow is required to not injure yourself if you are not a child who is more used to falling flat out), move your arms up and down to create wings, rise up without disturbing the creation (hopefully), and evaluate how it came out. This year I added a new complication, try to photograph it. I had to wait for some sunlight to get the highlights to show up.In the garden, not as idols but as reminders of spiritual concepts, I have a small Buddha, Kwan Yin, and Aphrodite (inspired by the painting The Birth of Venus). They serve, year round, through all seasons, as reminders of various spiritual traits that I desire in my life. Simplified, they would be contemplation, kindness, and passion. I am not quite to the age for Snow White's dwarfs or little deer, and possibly past the age for flamingos. I'll start worrying if I want gnomes...

Christmas card weather

Sunday morning, the farm creatures awakened to several inches of snow which was rather exciting to some and less than thrilling to others. The cows and sheep wanted to know where the grass went and looked suspiciously at us. "Do something!"

The sheep, less impacted by cold due to all that wool, were hopeful more apples had fallen. The cats felt something alien had happened, and it was ruining their outdoor pleasure. They refused to have their pictures taken in it-- typical behavior for cats. The humans had been potentially expecting it and thought it was pretty if it didn't last past noon. As I write this, it's still with us.

Although in the last few years snow has been rare in the Willamette Valley, the prediction is we may get more; and it will stay cold all week. Oh well, I do enjoy the opportunity to see the creek and farm through a different lens; and it adds much pleasure to the fire in the fireplace.

Hopefully no part of the next week will involve what we, in this part of the Pacific Northwest, call a silver thaw when freezing rain coats trees and power-lines forming icicles and leading to broken branches and power outages. At the farm, we are prepared for the latter with a generator, woodstove, kerosene lanterns (now where is that kerosene again?), and candles; but it's never welcomed.

The photos are all from the farm December 14.