Maria Wulf Full Moon Fiber Art

With the rain and warm weather, the gardens seem to be growing overnight.

This morning I saw that the Mayapples had leafed.  This afternoon Zip was lounging under them, as if they were beach umbrellas.

White Hen is about nine years old.  She still lays eggs and keeps up with the other hens.  This morning all three chickens came out to graze with the the donkeys and sheep.

Even though she’s older it’s not easy to see the difference between White Hen and Kitty and Anne.  The only sure way if for me to look at their feet.  White hen’s feet are rougher and she’s missing a nail on one claw.

For the past few days I’ve seen the barn swallows flying around the farm.  Twice I watched as two flew out of the barn but didn’t come back.  This morning I spotted two on the electrical lines going to the farmhouse.

I don’t know if they will decide to make their nests in the barn this year now that we have Zip.

I will miss them if they don’t.  The barn and farm will feel a little empty without them.  There is a nest from last year in the woodshed, safer from Zip than the barn because it is up high in the beams on the ceiling.

All I can do is wait and see what happens.  I’d rather they nest somewhere else than fall prey to Zip.

Zinnia loves to play with Zip, Fate not so much.

The last time I was at the dentist I got the idea for my Meditation Tree.   Today, in my mind, I was going through my stash of fabric trying to find something to make my bird from for my new fabric painting of the maple tree and bird. 

I was having the prep work done for a crown and I found when I thought about something other than what was actually going on, I was less uncomfortable.

I did that for a while, but I was in the chair for almost an hour and a half.  Apparently I have a small mouth and it was hard to get at my tooth.  But I was just glad that my dentist,  Dr Merryman (he is as happy as his name) took the extra time to do it right.

So after that I just looked at what I could see in front of me. Mostly parts of  hands, masked faces, long tools and little round lights, all of it somewhat abstracted.   I’d go over it in my mind as if I were drawing it.

That worked too.

But by the time  it was all done, I was worn out.  I took a nap when I got home, but I’m still tired.  Luckily the hard work is done. In a couple of weeks, I’ll go back and have the crown fitted.

Then I’ll be chewing on both sides of my mouth again.

The morning is soggy with last nights rain.  “We need it,” we say, “it’s good for the grass.”

The air is chilly, the sun an intense pale, yellow glow in the clouds.   There are so many birds, I hear them more than see them.

The day already feels more hopeful than yesterday with it’s broken egg and dead snake.

Bud lets himself in and out of the house, the only dog who knows how to open the back door.   Zinnia and Zip run along the fence together, one on either side.  When the get to the end they touch noses then go their own way. Fate runs round and round the grazing sheep without me telling her to.

Even with all the rain, the sheep and donkeys spend most of the night outside.  I can tell by how little manure there is in the barn.  I wonder where they were when the lightening wouldn’t stop flashing.  I wonder if it frightens them the way it frightened me, that one loud thunderclap that woke me 4am and gave me bad dreams for the rest of the night.

Thunder rumble softly in the fog of trees on the hill.

A single goose flies low over the farm. Back and forth calling and calling.   I hear the answer north and south of us, but the goose can’t seem to settle.