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Thea Summer Deer and Wisdom of the Plant Devas, chicken poop, Ghost Pipe, Emily Dickinson

I don’t really have time for a real blog post, never mind a book review [*], but I wanted to make a quick recommendation for Thea Summer Deer’s blog and book, Wisdom of the Plant Devas. This is going to sound like some woo-woo stuff to some folks, and I freely admit to being one of those who was extremely skeptical about flower essences and homeopathy and such for a very long time. And despite my work with and interest in herbs, I don’t write about herbal medicine much because I’m not qualified to and I don’t want anybody taking my...

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glimmer? thud.

Hi Top was not eggbound, thank God, but she’s got some weird infection and some sort of fluid retention thing going on. The vet did not say the words “vent gleet” or “prolapse” so that’s good, but she has two meds, is in isolation, and is not any better (or any happier) and there’s still plenty of worry mixed in with my relief that she wasn’t eggbound. I got to kind of enjoy that mingled relief/anxiety thing (mixed with a little nausea over what we had to pay for this diagnosis) for about 20 minutes. Then I got the news...

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(deep breath)

I am in the middle of two consultations that I should have delivered last night, along with posting a custom listing, finally getting the incredibly patient E. her light setting report, and making a big dent in the emails. Since 8 p.m., I have had three hours of sleep, one unexpected visitor who stayed a while, one rooster with a bloody foot who is very human-averse and hard to catch and who I’ve so far only managed to hit with Blu-Kote from a distance, four (yes, 4) separate hawk sightings necessitating installation of new hawk deterrent measures over three acres,...

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power's back on

And I’ve thrown my back out. 2020 is trying for a technical knockout. But there’s no ref to call anything, nobody but me. And I might look pretty beat up right now, but I’m not staying down, if only because people I love and admire haven’t given up yet. Well, and the chickens. Somebody has to feed the chickens. But make no mistake. This is and has been a battle of endurance, maybe even of brute stubbornness. We all have to pace ourselves. And calling a little encouragement from ringside has never been amiss. So I’m gonna hang in there....

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update

hurricane number three in last five weeks. Day 2 of no reliable internet and day 1 of no reliable power. Day 5 of drama associated with having to evict a houseguest who turned belligerent and threatening when asked to leave. The sudden and unexpected death in the family I mentioned a couple of weeks ago was that of my ex husband, who died in his sleep at the age of 52 and who still hasn’t had a funeral. Without doing the TMI thing I’ll just say it’s been pretty consuming. So I am not ignoring anyone but i am not...

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