I can claim some small braggadocia (and gained a large bit of oral satisfaction) from what you're looking upon. [No, it's neither exibitionist nor voyeurism I hae in mind's eye, ye pervie! HA!!!] I mean, the yellow beast be of me garden...
and the blueberries fresh-picked from a neighbor-lady the very day they were consumed! [Actually, Flower picked enough to
get full before the collection basket
eat fresh all day and night
freeze, whole, better than eight cups!!!]
It was a great meal, folks, made all the better by the amount of "free" stuffs thereon. In years to come, the lettuce will be mine and the meat hunted or raised-- vineson or rabbit, repectively.
I selected five cd's, somewhat randomly: Momentary Prophets Kellianna Spiral Rhythm The Cheiftains Narada
Took over the taco beef, commenced to lending ear.
I used to sit Sunday nights in prison out on my bunk, other 110 clowns blocked out of my mind by headphones piping in NPR-- first Fiona Richie's Thistle and Seamroc, then World Music with ... hell, I won't even try to spell it! ha! Point is, it was a Musical Journey night, a time when it was okay to recognise music as one of the major Keys To The Universe and ride it's currents to soar above the towers and razor wire and horses in the fields where you weren't free to run...
Tonight I sit free. Tonight is another musical freedom night-- a continuation; an extension. I've needed more Key in my life of late, and am getting as much live these days [drumming now on near a daily basis, feeling the floodplains slowly inundate...] as through the electrical push-button.
I am also privy to Nature's Bountiful Choir... but, that's another story!
Where did the spiral start: With Lady Reno? July last, when Flower was visited by the boob-fish? Winter Solstice last, whence I crept up Atlanta way?
I miss my new friend; we'll call her RJ.
I met her near a fortnight ago, 'round the Solstice Bonfire drum circle. Three nights later I began to know her.
I'm home now; home with my Flower. Home knowing next year Wisteria days will find my hands full of five-months-old care, joy and worry.
Home, happy knowing in the eyes of some youth [thanks, Nipple-Biter Lady!!!] and certainly in my biker-mamma's arms I'm still sound, still easy to hold.
Did I mention how much I'm missing RJ, and how nice it is to have enough of Flower's love to be able to say as much out loud? How I actually would near rather miss RJ this moment, thus making future embrace fonder? That my love for Flower is stronger because I can cop honest?
How wonderful my ear on her womb is, my Flower's... did I mention that?!??
I love that I've moved past-- in person and relationships-- that 'love is finite' fallacy.
Saturn's Day Nacht we were privy to this view of the Moon Mother out our front camp door: She was near full, but the evenin' light kept me from good focus. The moon was hard to get a picture of, too...
Several days likely topped 100 F. One day it showered cool from the clouds, and nary a kid-- by age or Soul-- was stagnant indoors...
Magical land, magical time...
There aren't a lot of [personal]'during' pictures, as this was a time away.
I'll be back @ Wisteria come Equal Days And Nights . I'll bring more to share that trip... Until then the time will pass as a friend of a friend said did the first half of oh-ten: loving, lusting, gardening, and drumming.