Grackle & Sun

A Damn Good Day

This morning I awoke after interesting dreams. Dressed, and happily discovered a little more room in my pants than there has been for a few months.  Had enough time to clean the kitchen that I neglected last night and to pack a delicious lunchtime snack AND to walk the dogs.  Made the best chocolate chunk almond butter I’ve ever made.  Got to work early despite leaving late. Helped people, rocked out a few projects, and maybe encouraged some friendly mischief. (Twinkle)

Drove the 5 minute commute back home.  Hugged my kids hello, gathered up the dogs, and kissed my husband goodbye.  And then kissed him again because I hadn’t left yet.  And then kissed him one more time for good reasons. Loaded the dogs up in the car and drove out to the farm in a golden afternoon so glorious that it seemed otherworldly. The sky was clear blue, the air was that perfect temperature that hovers a little past warm but just before hot, and the breeze was a soft touch against the skin.  Sunlight that can only be described as blissful healing medicine. I think I actually felt my pineal gland wake up and kick in. Ronin rode with his head out the window the whole way. Giant dog grins are contagious.

The farm was peaceful and still. And full of good green smells. Gathered eggs and picked a radish that looks like an egg.  Many, many more radishes to pick. Should quit job and become a radish farmer.

The gate to the cow’s pasture broke and hung open, but no cows escaped. Fixed the gate. The bull let me pet him through the fence. Maybe he was sun-sleepy. The sheep let themselves back in the barn for the night, so all I had to do was close the barn gate.  Fed the ewes, fed the rams. Bottle-fed the two bottle lambs.

Found the horses that had been missing off adventuring in far pastures for a few days. They were happy and shiny-coated. 

Sang a harvesting song, for the harvest has begun!

And will continue for weeks. Hadn’t planned on picking poke, but when the poke’s ready, it doesn’t wait around. I swear it wasn’t ready yesterday… Found a new bucket to keep the poke in, and also found two gallons of vinegar in the pantry to do the steeping with. Sweet score!

Discovered a new type of flowering plant in a field.  It is surely some exotic invasive, but ridiculously beautiful, though out of place. 

Fed the farm dogs as the light disappeared quietly in the West. Watched bats do their sonar-guided acrobatics above me.

Left the farm as night fully sank in. Drove east straight into a moon rise that was like something out of a science fiction novel–humongous and yellow like cream. It out-shone my high beams and made driving difficult for all my gaping and staring and mad grinning. I like reminders that our earth is as magnificent as any fiction.

Sang harmony to Tori Amos, hit a note I can’t usually hit. Didn’t hit a raccoon that wandered onto the road. Relaxation: good for vocal chords and reflexes. Came home to family and curry and comfort.  And now I write to you, friends. It was a damn good day.

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11 thoughts on “A Damn Good Day

  1. Aaaah! That sounds utterly perfect! Wonderful to hear of such a heart-full day of good luck and good happenings. Dyeing! And, may I say: CHOCOLATE CHUNK ALMOND BUTTER???! :)

  2. Wow… what a day. Just imagine – you could have walked past all that beauty and adventure – thank God you didn’t!

  3. It does indeed sound like a damn good day!!
    Although the way you write, a horrible day would probably sound like heaven! ;)
    You should quit your job and retire to the farm to be a writer….. and farmer.

  4. Quite lovely… and I think that’s some sort of moonflower….
    Can’t wait to see how the poke dyes up!

  5. Sounds like an awesome day! We all need those. ☺

  6. Lovely! So much better than my day. Thanks for sharing. I needed that.

  7. life of the hand - life of the mind on said:

    Count on me for a reference when you go after that radish farmer gig.

  8. I’m glad you had such a good day, and shared it. It’s relaxing just to read about it!

    But be careful with that flower, I’m pretty sure it’s a datura (jimson weed). Don’t let the lambs or the horses get it!

  9. Ah yes, full moon at its closest point to the earth. Was a beautiful thing – I was watching it from Tucson at the time, Alison’s first day home from the hospital.

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