a misty morning

At 7 this morning, I couldn't see across the field, but an hour later:

the day unfolded,

the greenery lush.

 Our little peach tree, set near the corner, is still wrapped in a stocking of white spiralled plastic.

The lilacs bloom alongside the roofed exit to the walkout basement,

their scent heavenly

The Japanese Maple's bandaged branches have healed and it looks very happy.

Forget-Me-Nots create a blue border beyond.

Muji wonders what I am doing, those pale aqua eyes want to know

May has been a healing month for the Japanese Maple, Muji, Wally and me. April was a harsh teacher, but we have learned a lot. I am  daring to feel the optimism of Spring. 

We have learned, not only to make a raw food diet for the cats, but to allow ourselves to listen to our inner wisdom that this was the right way to go. The cats are looking much healthier these last 2 weeks since taking them off  the "therapeutic" diet after 7 weeks on  their prescribed 12 week programme.  I use quotation marks because it is clear that, while the food we were told to use may clear up crystals in Muji's urine, it is not good for his overall health. 

During this course of time, I have learned to use a chef's knife after a lifetime of being afraid of them, only using a small paring knife all these years for most tasks in the kitchen, or a bread knife on occasion.  Juicing with cilantro among a myriad of vegetables for leeching heavy metals was added to our routine for Wally's trembling hands. It worked.  Daily preparation of the Budwig protocol for the cataracts in my eyes has made a difference. Deboning raw chicken thighs (lowest bone to meat ratio) for the cats' new diet until we can afford a grinding machine is the latest addition to the regimen. This is the first year we have added new dandelion leaves from our yard to our salad; long overdue: they are delicious.

All this unsettling shift in our lives led me one day to a video that startled me into a kind of awakening:

 

  I had seen this video before but never connected to it so well as I do now.  I came to understand on a deeper plane the need for "slow food, slow lifestyle" and that I am part of the post World War II generation that has been diverted from the simple life of past generations, people who naturally grew their own food, baked their own bread, brewed their own herbal remedies. We were indoctrinated to be consumers, to work towards not working, to be served.  I learned that it was good to have  someone else cook for me, grow food for me, in other words feed me instead of being invested in my own garden and food preparation. I learned that someone else must fix me with drugs instead of having the tools for my own health care, drive me instead of using my own body to get from A to B, well, you get the idea. I also learned not to ask too many questions, to leave it up to the "professionals", and I became a" child"  in their "parental" care.

Our culture is very "other" dependent. That would be a good thing if it meant that we had community and neighbours on which we could depend, but unless one belongs to a social structure where the old ways are passed down, learning how to make one's own bread -without a machine- is, at best, novelty, and at worst, revolutionary. By "other" I mean, that we are socialized to get someone else to cook for us, to entertain us, to heal us, etc.  There are reasons for knowing self care that I won't get into here, but it is helping me to turn the runaway locomotive that was April around.  It has certainly made me re-examine the new Minimalism and down-sizing that is in vogue and rethink my foresight to keep the handgrinder that we are using today. Because of this "awakening" I am more connected to the "privilege to be able to hang your clothes on the line"

So while I have not managed to get into the studio, there have been doodles.

each doodle representing a telephone call

I have no idea where they come from, no agenda, just a mindless raveling.

I hope you have managed to take some pleasure from the season wherever you may be. Spring is so beautiful here with forsythia in a blaze of canary yellow and rhododendrons engorged in violet rose. The cherry blossoms fell like snow earlier this week and give way to the other fruit trees.  It is Apple Blossom Festival here this week. Suddenly the road crews are out repairing potholes and the big vacuum truck is cleaning the winter's sand and debris. It inspires me to keep cleaning and reducing our mess.("Keep nothing you do not believe to be useful or beautiful") Always something to do.

One of the lines I found funniest was Maggie Smith's in her role as the dowager duchess in the television drama, Downton Abbey, when she asked, "What is a weekend?"

Ironically, many of my days flow into the next one, and but for Wally's schedule or the occasional appointment, I often find myself caught up short that it is Friday already.  I venture to guess, that it is a rare person these days that isn't so removed from the world that they don't know what a weekend is, so it won't be too perplexing if I wish you a happy one:)

 Blessings and good cheer.