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Fasten your safety pins!

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"It was a day a duck could love. For that matter the week was a duck's paradise. Dressed for the season in my long skirt, paisley wool shawl, and tea cozy hat with the red hibiscus over my left ear my feet splashed in puddles... The wind began to dance with me as I lifted my nose and sniffed from beneath the felt hat now much soaked through with rain. No fairies. But, a large copper pin about the size of a butterfly dropped from the cherry red awning above me and landed on my right shoe. A pin. A safety pin. "My Ma, "I said to myself. Besides being famous for carrying a flashlight my mother always wore at least one but more often a couple safety pins. Just in case. Long before it was punk fashion, safety pins are a talisman of security hard-wired in my DNA like knowing how to make something out of nothing. I fondled the pin and felt the distance of time between us compress... The Safety Pin Cafe Years ago, and not far away, we lived in the woods at t...
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There's a rumor, this time ...

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Light comes slowly in the woods. Time wears no wristwatches here. There's a rumor this time is the time. No more tampering with clocks from now on.  Will light come slowly out there, beyond the edge of Alder's shadow?  ~ In town today we saw our friend who lives rough, holds a sign as if to help others with a language they would rather not understand. HOMELESS, Need Help Pete stopped the car when he saw the shorter man in the rear view mirror. "How you doing? How was the winter? We been wondering 'bout you?" Light comes slowly in the woods. Time wears no wristwatches here. There's a rumor this time is the time. No more tampering with clocks from now on. Will light come slowly out there, beyond the edge where rooted, footed, settled, owned, rented properlies squeeze all else tightly. NO ROOM, No Help ~ A page from Mrs Noah's Pockets  In bed today we lay together in the dark where light comes slowly in t...
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Kinship of cheese

The smell of melting cheese chases the wind through the cracks in the wagon door, big gusts are predicted here on the Salish island. In case we lose power, we get things done before hand. We have had breakfast (oatmeal and nettles thick with slices of ripe bananas, a dollop of sunflower seed butter and a stream of maple syrup). Yummy! Fueled, Pete took over the stove and began heating water for dishes. It's a many step intensive routine -- dish washing, and a dance within a small space that is testament to a man who can move. The cheese is the thing. Sent to him from his older sister, Margaret, Pete's kinship with Wisconsin dairies is long bred; the man does love the pungent cheese. To hear him talk of his experiences with cheese -- Farmer's cheese, a soft and mild, breakfast; Limburger kept on the back porch; the extra-powerful forearms of his neighbors who worked the cheese and were sought after for your bowling team-- is to know some of what makes him. A single r...
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