I call it Poop Patrol. Every morning I go out with the dogs in the fenced-in yard where they do their morning business.
I walk around with the pooper-scooper in hand, calling out “Get Busy”, in a sing-song voice, like a vendor at a baseball stadium.
The three dogs run around each other. Fate brings me a ball to throw for her. Zinnia tries to grab the end of the pooper-scooper and Bud tries to do his business behind the big maple before Zinnia jumps on him.
This morning there was a thin layer of snow already on the ground, and as I searched the yard for any poop I may have missed yesterday, instead, I was delighted with a milkweed pod. Snow sprinkled the little boat and the fine fur of what I imagine once held the seeds glowed golden in the drab morning light.
Of course, my first thought was vulva. A symbol of life in these darkest days.
I brought the seed pod into my studio and laid it on my altar. It’s already drying out. In a few months, it will crumble to the touch. By then there will begin to be other signs of spring.
But the milkweed will sustain me till that happens.
It makes me feel so uncomfortable to look at the many vulva symbols on your blog. Right now I am smiling and curious about my discomfort. Could say more but this really isn’t the place.
That’s probably one of the highest compliments I can think of Janet. That the vulva images on my blog are making you think about them and yourself. Love that you’re smiling about it. And would love to hear more when you’d like to write about it.
I will send you an email when I have a sense of it.
Great.:)