☆ November 18, 2016
Beauty and power in organizing disorder.
☆ November 15, 2016
I want to clarify something.
Fear is not meanness.
Protest is not meanness.
Anger is not meanness.
are somehow being used interchangeably with meanness (by some).
are somehow being used to justify meanness (by some).
Bigotry IS mean.
Hate IS mean.
And while bigotry and hate often grow from fear and anger, these words are not all interchangeable.
I think it’s obvious to anyone who has spent mere minutes reading my work that I don’t support Trump, and I think Pence is the second coming of Satan. I’m glad that Mike didn’t support Trump. BUT. I have friends who voted for Trump. It’s not unlikely that 100% of my ambulance crew voted for Trump. Wyoming had the distinction of being the state with the very largest percentage of Trump voters in the nation. And maybe I’m being sensitive, or maybe I’m being naive, but I’m having a hard time with this sentiment: “Now I’m the person who doesn’t love you, Trump voters. I don’t want to be. But you hate your neighbors.” And this: “A lot of people’s terror doesn’t come just from Trump being elected. It’s knowing half the country is enjoying the pain of the other half.” And this: “A Trump supporter just followed me on Instagram. I’m not sure how I feel about this.” These statements are real, they came from very intelligent artists. These statements, and others like them, make me so sad.
It makes me sad because it’s more division. It’s division based on one thing. And whether that thing is superficial or not is up for debate and whether that thing is inherent bigotry or not is up for debate, but from where I stand in Wyoming – from my experience and that alone – I don’t agree that all Trump voters are bigots. I don’t think the blanket statements are helping anything.
And this does not negate the fear! It does not negate the anger, or disregard the protest! It can all be true. I went to Planned Parenthood on Friday for my annual exam, as I have always done. But I caught myself, as I was leaving my house, wondering if I was going to be shot to death during my appointment. My privilege – being white, in a hetero relationship, with a job that allows me to spend the majority of my time exclusively with animals – means I only feel this fear sometimes, not all the time.
I was riding my horse this weekend, wearing a tank top with Mapplethorp’s Flag printed on it (I have been riding my horse daily in tank tops in the middle of November in Wyoming, what is this world?). I was out in the hills, completely alone, no sign of human life, much less other humans. But I wondered to myself, what if I was wearing this tank top in public today? What if people who weren’t familiar with Mapplethorp’s work and life just saw me with the American flag on my chest? What would they think of me, just from that? How many would hate me, just from that? How many would fear me, just from that?
I received this in a email, and am posting it with permission:
“Several weeks ago my partner said she saw Trump as a heyoka (Lakota clown who mirrors the dark side). The heyoka’s role is to illuminate the shadow and ultimately help the people. In my prayer this morning, in despair at the election, I got back immediately that you do not engage the heyoka. You stay seated on the ground and you do not give into the fear that the heyoka creates. Stay in your prayer. Stay out of speculation. These just feed that kind of energy.
I got very strongly that the best medicine for us as a people is to keep our homes peaceful and calm, to engage in our community, to do all the small things that make up a good life, to remain kind and thoughtful, to stay in our prayer. We are part of the nurturing, and we have no idea how many of our small acts are helping other people, who go on to do other small acts. Strong community, strong neighborhood, strong households.
I have to say that usually my prayers are short and I don’t get a whole lot of words back, only a feeling or two. But this was a kind of torrent and as I stood there with my sage burning, the wind came up very strongly. Lastly, I got that humor, art, and ceremony are crucial in these times. I hope this is helpful. Big hugs to you all. I am so glad to count you as my community.
Love, mitakuye oyasin (we are all related)”
–Caitlin Sullivan, Seattle
And lastly, this is really important. This is for everyone outraged by racism, white supremacy, the lies of those in power, the abuse of power by those in power, and systemic disregard for the environment. Please stand with Standing Rock TODAY!
Go to www.nodapldayofaction.org to find events in your area. TODAY. Trump has invested in two companies behind the DAPL, so if you want to hit him where it hurts, PROTEST THE DAPL.
Yesterday the Army Corps and The Obama Administration issued a statement that essentially told Water Protectors to wait. Today, across the nation, in every state, in every major city, we will tell the Army Corp and President Obama that their statement is not good enough. We will make it loud and clear that we demand a decision that honors Indigenous Rights, Human Rights, and Climate Justice! No easement for Dakota Access Pipeline! #IndigenousRising #NoDAPL #WaterIsLife
☆ November 10, 2016
This week…. this year……… who’s ready for a new one????
I posted this to instagram yesterday:
The clashing and meanness – from all sides – is making me so sad. Who benefits when the hoi polloi are divided and fighting amongst themselves? Why is this not obvious to everyone?
I do have something I believe everyone can agree on, something everyone will love: CHARLIE.
CHARLIE FOR PRESIDENT!!!!
Failing that, CHARLIE FOR YOUR WALL!! (Not that wall. Never that wall.)
2017 calendars are finally finished and ready to brighten your days, your weeks, your year, your cubicle, your office, your home, and those of all your friends.
I hope you love them as much as I love you.
Click the pics to enlarge.
Order yours HERE.
☆ November 1, 2016
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been down at the corrals this year. We turned the front yard into an ICU for Sunshine when he was declining in January – the corrals are down a hill and over another hill from the house and we wanted to keep Sunshine close to us. The yard became Sid‘s playpen when he was born this spring, and it naturally became the place where I helped him bond with Daisy, and, at that point, I just started milking Daisy in the yard, too.
So, I’ve only been down at the corrals a handful of times, when we’ve needed to sort cows or tag calves. Just over a week ago, we took Sid, Roxy, Ixchel, and a couple of other calves to the corrals to wean them. Ixchel, Fiona’s calf, is gigantic. She is nursing solely for comfort at this point. And Daisy was producing SO much milk – she is such a devoted mother – that she has become too thin. The more food I gave her, the more milk she would make – she never gained any weight herself. She became so thin, I became worried for her well being in the inevitable cold and decided we must wean for her sake.
Whenever we wean, we put the calves in the inner corral and leave the outer corral open to the pasture. This way, the mother cows can go in and out of the outer corral and spend as much time as they like right next to their calves. They can sleep and eat side by side, see and smell and talk to each other, and the entire process is very calm for everyone. And very quiet. When calves are weaned and immediately taken away from their mothers (which is the norm), the calves and mother cows cry and call out for each other for DAYS.
The morning after we weaned, I walked down to the corrals with Chloe to check on everyone. I happened to arrive just as Mike was driving up with some hay for the calves. I was standing in the inner corral petting Sid when I heard a very loud meow. An urgent meow. Crouched in the dirt, not three feet from where I stood with Sid and Chloe, was a soggy little orange kitten. I called to Mike, but when he came over, the kitten scampered away and huddled under the railings of the round corral. I threw Chloe’s leash to Mike and scrambled over the railings, dropped into the round corral, and crept towards the kitten. It looked awful – I couldn’t tell if it was sick or crazy or just weak. I took off my t-shirt, and while the kitten was focused on my shirt in my left hand, I reached my right hand behind him and plucked him from his hiding spot by the nape and wrapped him up in my tee. And then. And then! When I held the little bundle against me, he started purring!
We zipped over to the vet, and I’ve spent the last week IN LOVE. He is 11 weeks old. He is neither sick nor crazy, he just needed food and care. We don’t know his origin story – my vet believes he was feral, Mike wonders if he was abandoned. I think the stork of souls dropped him in my path. He’s very likely Eli’s kin. To honor this, I chose a name that begins with the “long i” sound that Eli ends with: Ivan.
Ivan and Chloe are pals – Chloe lets him climb all over her and they are very sweet together. Charlie is really calm and submissive with Ivan but Ivan wants nothing to do with Charlie. Mushy is pissed. She has never not been the baby of the house and she is furious. She’ll get over it. Mushy always seemed so little, but she is positively gigantic compared to this kitten! He is tiny. But his paws are not, and he is already noticeably larger than he was a week ago. He purrs whenever I touch him. I have spent so many hours supine because he fell asleep on me…. and I consider it time very well spent. Here are pictures! If the embeds don’t work for you, you can see them (and more) HERE.
☆ October 24, 2016
Soup is my favorite food group. And lately, it’s the only thing I want to eat, which is fortuitous, as this is the best time of year for soup! I have made many, many vats.
My favorite soup; I’ve made it so often I don’t follow a recipe. I just throw stuff in a pot: one onion sauteed in butter, two peeled and cubed butternut squash, an apple or two, depending on their size (one if baseball-sized; two if raquetball-sized), broth to cover, nutmeg, cinnamon, salt, pepper. Simmer, covered, till butternut is very soft, then blend with an immersion blender. Stir in some cream (a cup? I just pour), taste, add more salt and nutmeg if needed. THE BEST.
Potato Soup with Roasted Garlic – Evelinas Ekologiska
I love the addition of white beans in this soup, but found the final product a bit bland, so I roasted a head of garlic and blended it in. A perfect addition, regardless! So rich, so autumnal! The page is Swedish but your browser will translate it for you.
Broccoli Soup – Smitten Kitchen
I prefer it with about 1/3 more broccoli and only 1/3 the of cheese. Mike has a thing against broccoli; when I make this soup, I never have to share.
Jambalaya – Gimme Some Oven
I subbed in local sausage and omitted the chicken. Really hearty without being heavy, soups are so wonderful that way!
Curried Cauliflower Soup – Cookie + Kate
Absolute perfection as is. This soup is SO SO GOOD.
What has made me really happy and excited, beyond all the soup itself, was realizing that 90% of the ingredients I’ve used for of all these soups came from my homestead or from people I know. I believe the coconut milk, shrimp, and spices are the only storebought items.
. . .
Farmily update: I took the pups out around 9 or 10pm as I do every night, and when I opened the door, there was Sid, on the deck, curled up on a rug that I’d accidentally left on the deck. The other calves were sleeping on the ground around him. He’s now big enough to sit on, but not so big he risks breaking the deck with his shenanigans (though that day will come….)
. . .
2017 Calendars are in the home stretch – I look at final proofs this week. Here’s a sneak peek of two pages from the surprise second calendar (there will also be Charlie’s Calendar)…. enjoy!« go back — KEEP LOOKING »