Saturday, May 7, 2011

mental health

  After the market today, I fed the animals, hung out two loads of laundry and sat down at my computer to download some rabbit photos. After awhile, I heard Rusty knock on the window and tell Sophia to tell me to come outside. I walk out the door, and look what I see...

Earl the Donkey
I could not believe my eyes. First, because we had just bought a shop vac (lol) and that I assumed was my present. I wanted it for my angoras. I also bought a couple cute things at the market and was happy as could be. Well, I was so shocked to say the least. I did not hear the people pull up. I did not hear Earl let out a HEE-HAW at the dogs while they lead him down. (I was told later.) I sensed nothing, until I walked out the door and saw what I have been asking for, since we moved in to the farmhouse. I even asked Santa. The real one.

Earl is a four year old miniature donkey.

He is a "Jack" because he is a boy.

He is sweet and gentle.

Sophia and Earl. She loves him too.

Earl likes us too, even though his ears are back.

Earl has come to his forever home.

Earl (he came with the name and I kinda like it) is from Alabama. He has been a "pet" since he was born. He recently moved to WV. Where he was living before, there was another Jack and Earl did not get along with him, at all. So the other Jack had seniority (he was 24 years old).And my Earl was advertised. He came from the Flat Top Mountain area.

Earl is more than a gift. He is the manifestation of a dream. He is the manifestation of hope. We are here to stay, here nestled in the mountains of West Virginia. Here, in our home.

After playing with Earl, I had a pink rose, home decor magazine, and chocolate chaser. Compliments of Brittany when she got home after work. I asked Brittany if she wanted to lead Earl around and she said yes. She instantly loved Earl as well. He followed her, gently and I saw my 20 year old working, stressed out college student, melt back to a carefree 10 year old girl. Brittany (practical, practical Brittany) asked me what purpose a donkey was to the farm. Everybody has a purpose here after all.. I thought for a minute, and answered her. I said he was here for, mental health.

So wild, so frickin' wonderful, I can barely contain myself.

Friday, May 6, 2011

willow's song

There's a mountain in my pocket
placed softly quiet night angel laying low
lovely birth all white petals and tattered lace
secrets everything everywhere know

Oh Marie, how I adore you
Oh Marie, spearmint on the well house.
Beautifully unspoken perfectly matched
You are part of me and I am a part of you

There's a swallow in my hair
vines of sorrow awakening olden sick hemlocks
blinded flutter weekly marching faith
hidden lady grace's perfect holy nest

Oh Marie, how I adore you
Oh Marie, spearmint on the well house.
Beautifully unspoken perfectly matched
I am part of you and you are part of me

There's moss carpet underfoot
swift invisible hiding seeking giggles
flowing cold cracks in between and under
scented honey bees singing swirls

Oh Marie, how I adore you
Oh Marie, spearmint on the well house.
Beautifully unspoken perfectly matched
Oh Marie there is no end to us and there is no part

There's a hole in her heart
loving long dreamy girl child growing
here near deep clear mother's spring
inhaling green auras of your minted crown

2/2009 ~crow

bad news

I notice on my blog stats, that if there is a debate going on on my facebook page my views here go way up. Not that I am a huge fan of debate. Debate sounds like an argument to me. I would rather talk to somebody. As in hear them, and hopefully, they make an attempt to hear me. In conversation, I am listening. I don't think you can communicate with somebody unless both people are listening, or at least one person is. Sometimes all you have to do is listen. Maybe that is all a person really needs, to be heard. That is a conversation as well.

You know, bad news does travels faster than the good. The television news stations always highlight the grittiest crime on their broadcast. Or perhaps a horrific accident. They don't open the news with "Church holds fundraiser for tornado victims in the South." It might get a spot later on in the broadcast, but not the highlights. If TV stations did, I am sure less people would be ready to tune in at 5:00 for details.

I like to see the positive in each day. I like to talk about it. So, here are some pictures of my herbs, and the start of my garden. Super boring. Super beautiful. Stay tune for more of the mundane!



early crops
romaine, cabbage, broccoli

romaine, cabbage, broccoli
two rows of carrots
I am going to the market tomorrow! Whohoo!

to market to market jiggity-jig


Wednesday, May 4, 2011

searching in america

It just occurred to us that our Rhode Island Red rooster may have been the attacker to my Brahma chicken, who is now located in the freezer. (The chicken, not the rooster.) It explains the hawk like wounds. Tomorrow, I will put the other Brahma up in the "teenager" run. That way it can be with my other younger Brahmas, Araucanas, and the second hatch chickens and live safely behind the wire fence. The Brahmas are a bit slow so perhaps it was an easy target. But if I catch him hurting the flock, he will have to be put in solitary until he chills out. Most chicken owners would tell me to put him in a pot with noodles. But he is a fine looking rooster. Just gorgeous and proud. I don't want to make him out to be a terrorist. I have had enough of that. Maybe he is protecting his favorite hen. Maybe he is like a Navy Seal, a wise, stealth commando.

About all of that. I am not joyous and celebratory about killing. I do have more of an emotional reaction to the victims of terrorist's attacks. I have a tremendous amount of compassion for their families who are left alone, trying to make sense of the senseless. It makes no sense, in my mind either. I can't seem to put it all nice and neat in the good and bad compartments. Getting mad at the perpetrator, doesn't resolve the fact that humans do terribly cruel things to their own kind, their own species.  Ancient civilizations have imploded on themselves and simply disappeared as a result. Even Americans have turned on Americans, Why do we do that to ourselves?

I told Rusty last night that I keep on searching Osama bin Laden face in all the video and pictures. I look for a sign of evil, of something sinister in his eyes, something... but I don't see it. He looks to me like he could be a yogi just as easy as a mass murderer. It is just an observation by me. Please don't think I am anti American. It is just like his facial expressions seems... quiet. Look at the man for yourself and see if you see anything evil. I am interested to hear from you if you do. I am not talking about what he did. I am talking about how he looks. Perhaps he does truly believe he is doing God work. He looks peaceful to me.

Nothing died here at the farm today. There are the most beautiful blue swallow pair making a nest in the birdhouse. I saw the most gorgeous bright yellow and black tiny birds before the rain came today. There were other tiny birds with them, brownish, I thick they might have been mates. They lightened my heart. This flock of tiny birds, surviving beautifully.

Yes, for those we have lost, for them, we must survive... beautifully too..


Tuesday, May 3, 2011


It has been a wild few days. Today I think was the wildest. I have hatched 11 chicks and 12 ducks from my incubator starting Sunday until today. It was an exciting and exhausting process. Only, because I had never hatched ducks before and got a little jumpy. I ended up hatching 4 ducks by hand, because my first one, who was doing a great job progressing, suddenly died in the egg. I know I am not God, but I certainly feel the pressure to assure the health and well being of my animals. So I become God-like. God-like in the way of love. If something goes wrong, I turn to myself and think about how I could have done better. I don't give myself a terribly hard time, but I don't take it lightly either. I try my best, and then let it go.

I had to let a few things go today. Like earlier, while out feeding everybody I found one of my brahma hens laying down, with her head buried under the doorway of the coop. She had been attacked. It did not look like she was attacked by a dog, fox, or coyote. We think it may have been a hawk. Perhaps the attack was warded off by Bella our brave dog. I am not sure, but there she was, on deaths door. I picked her up and brought her to a rabbit hutch. I gave her water and food and left her alone, thinking she may just be in shock. I went back to check on her, and right at that moment, she flapped her wings, then dropped dead. I said a little good-bye to her and thought that she should not just be tossed away. Brahmas have big breasts, and even at her young age, they were huge. I would ask Rusty to process her. He did, and she is now in my freezer. I talked to Sophia about it and she said she understood, but she wasn't sure she could eat her. I said, I am not sure I can either, but I am going to try. Sophia knows about how to make food with love. She always enjoyed making tuna fish sandwiches with me and when we were done adding pepper and mayo, we would add love. You may wonder how we add the love. It was quite easy and always makes us smile. We jusy hold our hands palms down over the tuna,smile and then say, "tuna with love!" Sophia and I talked about chicken with love, and how much love that chicken had in her already. *big breath*

A storm was coming in and I began securing everybody, getting the goats back in from pasture, when I went up to check on Sylvia, the beagle. She had just had pups three days ago. I was checking in on her in the whelping box and caught her eating a puppy. After my initial horror, I took her remaining two beagle pups from her and brought them to the house. It was to the core- horrifying and so gross. I could not save the pup, it was obviously dead. I almost threw up right there. I still can't shake it. I wont describe it, so you don't throw up on your keyboard hearing about it. So I put the pups in a basket and thought I would wait until my live-in on-call biologist made a suggesttion. Again, I had to explain death to Sophia. We talked about it more and we both agreed that this was part of farm life. Farm life and farm death.

So much life has begun here. We have babies everywhere. It is Spring. It is the time for birth and renewal. In this mode it is difficult to do a switch to death. However, here in the death, comes life again. I will try to eat my chicken. I will try not to think anything about dogs while I do.

Rusty came home and he feels like something was probably wrong with the puppy. It could have even died on it's own. We brought Sylvia down to the house, and reunited her with her pups. She was so happy to see them. I wonder if she though perhaps she ate them all, and was relieved to see them ok. The pups best chance at life is to nurse from their Mom, and hopefully she doesn't eat them. That would be horrible. But here I am again. God-like. Making life and death decisions. Or maybe, life and death was chosen by something else, something I have no business in messing with.

And then I look at these glorious little creatures, the ducks. They are so exotic to me. I told Rusty tonight that they look so wise. Like they have old souls. These are from the eggs that I received from Nicky, they are Indian Runners and some Pekins. If you want some quality fertile eggs see Nicky's Auctions. The last duckling came this afternoon. A black Indian Runner duckling was fashionably late. There was life beginning, so beautifully. All under the New Moon, the circle continues.

Sophia's Indian Runner Duckling

Pekin and Indian Runner Ducklings - The newest wet black duckling joins the flock
Flock of Pekin and Indian Runner Ducklings

New Healthy Chicks

Reds, Blacks, Banty, Browns

Very Wild,
Always Wonderful,

Monday, May 2, 2011

coming out

Today is International Pagan Coming Out Day. Why have a coming out day? Well, I suppose there are different reasons for different people to "come out." A majority of people of the Pagan faith, have to hide their religious beliefs in fear of repercussions. You might wonder what kind of repercussions. So do I. But I know that there is a tremendous amount of prejudice placed upon Pagans. International Pagan Coming Out Day, is a day that there can be more awareness. To stop the prejudice, heighten awareness and to make known that your neighbor could be a Pagan! Paganism is a fast growing religion, some say the fastest growing religion in America, and is recognized by the United States of America's Military as such.

Let me explain what I believe a Pagan to be. First, I need to mention that the under the Christian faith umbrella, you will find Baptists, Catholics and Mormons. All diverse, all claiming to their own God, there own dogma and their own interpretation of the Bible. All, in my opinion are valid and kept sacred in their own belief systems. Looking then to what lies under the Pagan umbrella is many indigenous people's beliefs, Native American Shamanism, Taoism, Wiccans, (a European or Celtic based religion), Neopagans, Druidic religion (based on ancient Celtic people), the Asatru (the pre-Christian Norse religion), and the jury is still out whether the Hindu religion falls under the same. But as you can see, there is a prism of very different religions under the same general category.

Next, I will tell you what a Pagan is not. Pagans do not believe in the "devil" so, worshiping the devil is not something Pagans do. The whole concept of the devil is from other religions and belief systems. If you really want to believe that, I suggest taking a trip through history and noting who started demonizing and when it happened. If there is some sort of crazy bunch of folks out there who say they are worshiping the devil, well, they are no more Pagan then they are Christian. Pagans are not a pack of wild immoral people. In fact, Pagans hold themselves highly accountable for their own behavior, practices and worshiping. Most believe that what you put out into the world, will return, three fold. Another false perception is that Pagans don't believe in God. Which, for the overwhelming majority is simply not true. Pagans beliefs can be of a monotheism, polytheism, shamanism, pantheism, or animism in nature. Although, I suppose there is room enough for atheism as well under the umbrella of paganism. Also, there are many any combination of paganism. Christo-pagans, Jew-itches. You name it! Pagans don't hold themselves more "right" when it come to how or who or if  to worship! Another misconception, is that Pagans are out trying to get recruits, mainly teenagers. I can say with all certainty that Pagans do not proselytize, nor do they believe that anybody under the age of 18 can truly have enough life experience to know who they are, never mind what religion (if any) they are. Most pagan parents expose their children to many paths, because it is of the Pagan belief that there are many paths to the Divine. Pagan parents instill a deep sense of compassion for all living things, for all people, animals and the earth as a whole. Pulp culture may have more to do with a teenager looking like a goth Harry Potter or Alice Cooper, than any trickery going on by peaceful earth-crunchy Pagans.

Now that you know what Pagans are not, this is what I believe Pagans are. The two most common themes in paganism is, one...  all are connected, and two... everything is blessed. Paganism is considered an earth based religion and takes it's cues form nature. Although, there is no specific Dogma that all Pagans follow, there are very important moral codes and philosophies that they abide by. Not because they are afraid of going to hell, but because it is the right thing to do.

Pagans worship in many places, from halls and churches, to homes and backyards, to deep in the forest or by the ocean. It reminds me of when we had a sunrise Easter service by the lake. I remember as a child liking the whole church outside deal.


Religious Tolerance is a great place to learn more about Paganism or any faith you might want to learn about. I will also be writing about more Religions, Faiths, and my own beliefs

So, come on out world! The weather is beautiful!

night night


Sunday, May 1, 2011

may day, may day

Phaedra Bonewits, “Beltane Meditation.”
“Beltane is the start of summer in my half of the planet, and may it be a full, rich, fecund summer. May babies be strong and crops be abundant and happy couplings begin and ripen. May maypoles be wrapped with joyous wishes and may the dancers find what they desire. May what needs to begin, begin and grow stronger. May what needs to end, slip away with dignity. May the bonfires be bright, and life go on with all its vigor.”