Equinox

3 hours into it, reflecting on the past quarter.

Week 2

gardening - sprouts
salad days
conversations - changed circumstances open doors to info not revealed a month ago.
slow down - accelerated process
relationships anew - observations from a different perspective
look at something new - adornments where earth meets sea.

Week 1

The daily ritual this past week consists of working in the garden for 2-3 hours in the morning before the sun gets too warm overhead, then come in for a good lunch and a glass of wine. I'll go out for a walk. Or I'll drive and run several errands. Then I'll get some work done. These days that consists of looking at financials and getting some spreadsheets set up. While I'm doing that I'll run a load or two of laundry and hang them outside to dry (does anyone do that anymore?).

The garden slowly gets cleaned up. Weeds were cleared in two large beds and 6 planter pots, all were amended with compost that was turned, and drip irrigation was fixed.

Planting was done: 4 tomatoes, 12 marigolds, 4 coreopsis, and a madder clipping. Mexican oregano, lemon thyme, and a lavender plant orphaned for over a year. Seeds for bush beans, shiso, and alyssum were sown.

Very glad that the alpine strawberries from last year are thriving this spring - I had the pleasure of grazing on a few as I weeded and watched butterflies and ladybugs.


My back and legs are getting stronger.

Hana lima au i ka lapaiki

I ka kakahiaka i ka Lapule hana lima au i ka Lapaiki.
A i ka 'auinala hana no lima au.
Using a small chisel and a hammer I continued the shaping. I reminded myself that the point of the shaping was to remove material. Then I realized that simpler tools such as sharpened stones and mallet rocks could be used for this task, and here I was with a sharp chisel and hefty hammer with leverage. I began to know the wood and tools, and my hands began to learn how to hit the chisel and position the blade in several positions. Some moves were easier than others whereas some moves took several slow deliberate attempts before succeeding - very much like dancing.

My hands got tired. I felt like stopping. But I continued because I knew this was the only time I would have in daylight to focus on this task. I looked at the garden and wondered when I would weed it. It had rained a few days earlier, the ground was soft and warming up, and I knew the weeds would explode soon. I'd already postponed the weeding from yesterday to today, yet I was using this afternoon to shape the drum and I wasn't weeding. Gah.

I focused on the shaping and several hours later this is what I had. It is not polished, and there are flaws. But I will look at it again after a few days and decide how to proceed before sanding it. My hands hurt.

I looked at the weeds and their toxic potential spurred me to put my gardening gloves on. My intent was to pull just the fluffy-seed weeds. But as I started I wondered why I would limit the weeding to one type if the others were actually easier to pull out. I filled five 32-gallon cans and completed the weeding. It all had to be done because of the limited time frame and the opportunity in the amount of time.

My hands still hurt. I think my back and legs will join them soon.

A View

It's raining tonight.  Unusual for this time of year.  The Tour de California bike race starts in the Sierras today or tomorrow and snow is forecast.  Downhill at 50mph on "fat" one-inch racing tires?  Nein danke.

I tended the small garden plot, performed the annual irrigation check (giving rise to tonight's rain, no doubt), made a few repairs, and planted a few tomatoes, alyssums, and marigolds.  A month ago I pulled the offspring of the summer wild ones, and I haven't seen too many since, which was a relief until I wondered if there was another less desireable reason why the ground is more barren than usual.  It was confirmed that the land had been sprayed with herbicide.  My heart sank with dismay.  Time to extract the skeletal carcasses, heal the land with compost, replant, and post "no poison" signs.  Bah.

Been awhile since I've traveled.  So I go vicariously, over oceans through the sky.  14g of merino were spun on the Kundert perpetual motion spindle before and after gardening.  7g of cobalt-blue merino were spun woolen and andean-plied.  Similarly, 7g total of the cobalt-blue and turquoise (equal amounts of each color) were produced.  These are calm oceans and clear skies viewed on a sunny day.

Summer - Forever

What happens when nature follows her own inclination? Rampant growth, with explosions of seed tufts that stick to nearby surfaces.

This is a horrific sight when the dandelion-type plants are nearly as tall as I am.

It's doubly horrific when the nearby patch of tomatoes growing in rich soil amended with "home-grown" compost is less than a fallen weed-stalk away. What we don't see are the weeds that were growing right next to these tomatoes; I pulled out those fluffy-seedy weeds about a month ago.



I pulled up the weeds we see in these images about two weeks ago. But the grey fuzz of sticky seed fluff is nearly impossible to hand-pick out of the soil and nearby plants. I considered using fire but could not think of an effective method that would not put the house and neighborhood at risk. I'm doomed to hyper-vigilant scrutiny for weed growth. Forever. All because I let these damn things metastasize.