I Got A Goat (or, Thank You Charlie Brown)

When I was just ready to turn 39 I was doing the dishes one day and I looked down at my leg and I could've sworn I saw the dreaded 'varicose vein'. In actuality, it was just a blue vein that I saw through my skin. But, I was so terrified (I'll let you in on a secret that my Toledo Hungarian side of the family *which boasts upwards of 20 children per woman* is no stranger to varicose veins). Anyhow, I was so terrified, I vowed right then and there to do whatever it took to make whatever it was disappear. I read up on it and took Bilberry and extra Vitamin C and then I read that exercise helped. So I took up running. Well, running took me up (it was addictive, fun, stress reducing and healthy). My 'varicose vein' disappeared and I ran right through 40, 41 and 42.

Around 41 I started realizing that I was living 'mid life'. Aha, so THIS is what everyone is referring to...'Mid Life Crisis'. Halfway between. Not quite young, but not ready to be old. Strange. A very strange place to live.

Some people, I've noticed, deal with this 'in between' age by getting plastic surgery. I've never been a fan plastic surgery. The whole 'plastic' part gets me first, but then I also happen to actually like what God gave me, big nose and all. And I immediately agreed with what Robert Redford had to say about wrinkles, the first time I read it, “Look, I know I don’t look the way I used to. Everyone in Tinseltown is getting pinched, lifted and pulled. It’s becoming a sick obsession. They lose some of their soul when they go under the knife.” The part about losing some of their soul, yeah, I can agree with that. Some people have affairs or get divorced or paint their walls sixteen different colors. New car, old car, trip to Europe; Every middle age crisis has it's own antidote.

So, instead of plastic surgery or a new car or a trip, what did I go out and do? I GOT A GOAT.

I didn't get a collagen lip boost, I GOT A GOAT.

I didn't go to Italy. I GOT A GOAT.

I didn't buy a Lexus. I GOT A GOAT.

But wait! Not just one, I GOT TWO GOATS! Yes, that's right. TWO. ha.

Like Charlie Brown on Halloween. Can't you hear me? I GOT A ROCK. No, I GOT A GOAT!

Dear sweet Charlie Brown. Your rocks were beautiful because they were different. Just as I am proud of my silly stinky sweet brown little goats. Different, but perfect.

So, if you are feeling a little bit of 'neither here nor there' in your system...don't fret...don't worry about fitting in. Do what is right for you and be proud of it. For me, it was a goat (or two).

I GOT A GOAT (and no varicose veins, yet.)

August Eve

Blissful dry cool air is blowing in from the west tonight after weeks, WEEKS of hot humid weather and incessant days and nights of having the world outside shut off with the humming and droning of the air conditioner. So thankful to hear the birds, the crickets, the wind, the echos of distant dog barks and mooing cows. We scrubbed and cleaned house all morning and now it feels so good to rest. Big stacks of books await my eyes if they don't threaten to play hide and seek with my eyelids.

To all who read here: I have acquired a scanner, finally, and will now be able to share works of art instead of just photographs! Coming soon (as soon as I get it all figured out) (:

The Bird Flying Over You

(a shadow dream in words)


I am the bird flying over you
My wings my bones
Eternity
My shadow
Not to darken your way
But to follow you with love

I am the bird flying over you
Angel of the elders
Opening the meeting place door
Soft as golden velvet

I am the bird flying over you




~All words copyright of Amy Lesser 2010

Jack of All Trades, Zucchini and The Arts

Isn't it so true, that at the beginning of the summer, when the three months lay ahead of us like unopened oysters perhaps containing that one special pearl, that we feel so fresh and exuberant in a child-like way? And, isn't it true that by this time of the summer we have, as adults, accepted that the pearl may not be in the oyster and, well, the oyster may not even be there?

Each summer turns out differently than I expect. Each leaves such strong bittersweet memories. I have to say that I have bitten off quite a few more tasks this trip around the sun than I did last year. This year, I began to be afraid that I was becoming a 'jack of all trades and a master of none." A personal insult to myself, which I pondered deeply. First, I know that it is good to do one thing well, rather than many things poorly. However, I am the sort of person who functions best (and most creatively) under duress and pressure and schedule, under multiple jobs. So, while this old cliche may hold true for others, it does not hold true for me. Jack of one trade? Nope. That is not me. I like who I am and I like juggling all the beautiful things I am trying to learn while I am here. What have I been juggling this summer?

Here's a short synopsis:

Feeding one Nubian goat and 4 mixed breed sheep (my little ruminants) morning and night and then milking said goat. (Penny, Charlotte, Eustace and S'more from left to right with Amelia in the back. )
Filtering milk, making cheese, gathering eggs, washing eggs, waiting on customers, cooking breakfast, cooking lunch, cooking supper, doing dishes by hand, making stacks of supplies and notes for each art project and each creative idea that comes into my mind, helping cats give birth to kittens, mowing lawn, taking children to piano lessons, swimming with children, teaching children to swim, keeping children safe, gathering big magical maple branches to decorate with, baking homemade granola, feeding wild birds, laughing, reading, writing, singing, playing my fiddle, driving long distances and home again, missing home, missing those who have gone on before me, running on the cool dirt road and saying hello to my friends the chipmunk and the trees, gathering herbs,
making medicine, making pickles,
making jam, eating juicy blackberries, swatting mosquitoes, climbing the hayloft in the dusk and throwing hay down while the setting sun beams in, crying over how quickly children grow up, praying, lighting the night candle,
cleaning, dreaming of baking bread,
consoling, helping, Twittering, making wonderful new friends, throwing impromptu tea parties, telling my children I love them, smelling the sweet smell of corn pollinating in the field, hunting for lost kittens and wishing for more time to do all these, and more, over again.

Today, in the name of family, I went with my husband and our children to his 'favorite' pastime, an old steam engine show. Oh good Lord it was hot and miserable for a girl (for two girls). Hot steam tractors in the August heat, ash raining down, fried food and hot sun beating down. Sitting on a hot bleacher in the middle afternoon sun I suddenly burst out laughing in hysterical laughter. It was all just too silly...Amanda and I sitting there in our calico skirts. One of the 'old-timers' sitting next to me looked over and laughed with me. I said to him, "he said there'd be girl things...girl things!" and I continued laughing. They laughed too. I kid you not, we drove through Hell, Michigan on the way home (and no air conditioning in our car, mind you!). Um, I was sooooooooooo glad to be home....cool water, cool vegetables, not Hell. I don't think tractor/steam engine shows are my thing.

Tomorrow is more garden scavenging (amongst the weeds which have proliferated in the equatorial rains we have had) for pickling cukes, zucchini (I think August 8th is sneak-some-zucchini-on-your-neighbor's-porch day, if I'm not mistaken) and eggplant. But, more importantly, MOST IMPORTANTLY after today's tractor show...I have realized how very very important the Arts are in my life and how I am going to give the art in my life front-and-center for the next few months.

Do any of you realize how bland and ugly this world would be without music, dance, art, and the written word. I never realized, before today, how very utterly important it is to support the Arts and to encourage new artists to continue creating. It is the balm for our troubles, the soothe on our cuts, the ahhh at the end of the long day. For every loud muffler, hot shadeless park or miserable work day, there should be an equal love song, cool shaded nook with book and inspiring painting waiting for our senses. Join me in supporting the Arts, they are so very important! They are the balance for our world, and it is tipping. If you know of an aspiring painter, song writer, musician or writer, support them with your words and a little bit of your time, would you? The world will be a better place for it.

North of North

Our oldest child, Albert, is now a good 12 hours and close to 1000 miles away from us! He is North of North! He is on a Canadian fishing trip with my parents and I am missing him terribly. There is obviously no cell service where they are as I haven't heard from him since they crossed the Canada-Michigan border at Sault St. Marie. I am in a summer 'rut'. I have soooooooooooo much work to do. Primitive orders, soap orders, garden weeding, apricot jam (apricots are all accounted for/sold now), canning, berry picking to become blackberry jam, herb gathering, house cleaning, piano lessons for our daughter...and of course, the Ann Arbor Art Fair is running this week. Friends who I have not talked to in 6 months have called, wanting to have lunch together and go antiquing. I am maxed out and tired.

When we head in many directions we succeed at nothing. What I need is a nap in a hammock and iced coffee aftewards with a good summer novel.

So many beautiful things to do, so little time to do them.

Checking in here to tell you all that I am still 'around', just buried in my work once 'gain.

Who Do You Write Like?

This is so fun. (Well, for a writer at least). Simply copy and paste a sample of your writing style in the box on this website, http://iwl.me/ and it will inform you what famous author your writing style resembles! Fun!

(For the record, it says I write like Mark Twain and...Stephen King...scary!) (Addendum on July 18th! I pasted in some of my 'blog' writing instead of my fiction and poetry and it told me I write like David Foster Wallace and James Joyce...ouch, that's dark and scary in itself...in addition to Stephen King!)

Extraordinary

OVERCOME the notion that you must be normal.
It robs you of the chance to be extraordinary.

Create, Do, Be, Live, Now

I DIDN'T SLEEP much last night, it is very very hot here in Michigan, and our old rambling farmhouse is not insulated well, so heat comes in and cold. We have one bold brave little window unit air conditioner for when things get really nasty (such as today). But, there is hope on the horizon. The children and I have been invited to go to a local lake to swim for the afternoon. Summer afternoon at the lake. Summer breezes and cold lemonade. It is, most surely, the heart of summer. How it has gone by so fast is amazing to me...how can it be this late in July?

And so, on that thought. I am going to attempt to be more creative, in the midst of life. I have commented to many that I don't understand how artists, writers, dancers and musicians jot down their work as the creative thoughts enter their head. It is a subject that I find fascinating. For me, ideas come all wrapped and packaged, instantaneously. And, I must write them down or, better yet, DO them at that moment, or they vanish. Tell me, do you write your most creative epiphanies on receipts in the car, on your hand, on the grocery bag, on lists, in journals...or, do you just go do them in the midst of life and living? That is my goal for today and the rest of my life, to just go do them and make and create them as they appear in all their full color and three dimensional glory...before they fade, and before life, and the ever present march of time wins out over the joy of art and music, dance and words!

And, I must also confide to you that God has been sending a whole bunch of new friends my way! What a gift. New friends! You know, the sort of friends who stay with you for life~Wow. I can't tell you how thankful I am for that. He knows just what we need, when we need it. And, so the above card is in honor of that. The photo is a tad bit askew, but then, so is life, huh? (-;

Round Peg Square Peg...What Is The Difference?

I was just emailing someone, and commenting, that 9/10ths of the time I feel as though I am a round peg in a square hole, or a square peg in a round hole. (Does anyone know the difference? Perhaps a square peg is a little less conforming to societal norms?) But, then I was thinking...maybe we all feel this way. Maybe all of us are all square pegs in round holes and round pegs in square holes and our pupose is to not 'fit' in, but to just be who we are, regardless of who we are surrounded by, related to and married to. Maybe that is the whole 'shape' of things. Be yourself, create, do what comes naturally to you, and don't worry so much.

Log Cabin/Soldier/Blacksmith Days

http://shar.es/mD0fr

It was difficult to bring ourselves 'back' to this century when it was all over yesterday. It is not me playing the fiddle, but I wish it were. I did play my fiddle, but must learn the song that the reporter added to the little video clip. A beautiful haunting song.

Gifts of Summer

Just now, as I was sitting down at the computer to type, I heard a startled bird cry from across the garden, over in our big pine tree. I thought, perhaps, as the solstice sun was setting that a cat might be attacking young birds. And so, out the door I went. I trekked across the garden. When I arrived to the tree, at first I thought there was a large 'moth' hatch going on...it was dusk and hard to see...but then I realized that the tree, some 50 feet high, was swarming with honeybees and that the birds were distressed from all the bees! I stepped back and looked. Amazing. A solstice swarm. Tomorrow, my brother in law, the beekeeper, will have the swarm. They are most likely from one of his hives. I do hope the birds survive unscathed and unstung. Poor things.

This afternoon, in our back sales room, which becomes a catch all over the winter, the inside of the screen door was covered in beautiful summer solstice butterflies! I had gathered two bushels of nettles a couple of weeks ago and, unbeknownst to me, they had little caterpillars all over them when I brought them home. By the time I realized that the little guys had set up 'shop' in our shop with cocoons while the nettles were drying on a screen, it was too late. And here, today, they hatched in all their glory and fluttery winged splendor. My daughter and her little friend held them gingerly on their little girl fingertips and they fluttered in their curly hair. Very summery, indeed.

I also received an early birthday gift (for tomorrow)

from a new kindred spirit friend (a gift in itself!)who gave me a summer solstice bracelet that she created herself of malachite and a hand blown glass ladybug bead, a beautiful quartz crystal, a sliver of magical amethyst (my favorite crystal) and a Native American arrowhead from Tennessee. She delivered it all in little secret pouches of gold and leather and included a bouquet of wild purple flowers and mini sunflower heads. What a truly beautiful day!

I treated myself (while performing the perfunctory grocery shopping this a.m.) to a pink raspberry fondant cake that waits a-cooling in the cooler and even the man at the vacuum repair store (ours conked out yesterday, no wonder on this gritty dirty farm) was pleasant and 'summery' as I dropped old faithful off to be fixed. What magic occurred today. What beauty came forth from the ends of the earth. I wish the solstice occurred more than twice a year. O day of beauty and gifts. A gift that cometh down from above.

Solstice

Solstice

The words rolllllll off my tongue. Isn't it a lovely word? I have threatened to change my name, legally, to...just...plain...SOLSTICE. Not Solstice Lesser. Not Amy Solstice. Just - Solstice.

(Ah, she's gone off the deep end, you say, quietly to yourself). No. I'm turning 42 in two days! I am entitled to dream, a day before one of the most lovely days of the year, of running barefoot through pine scented forests with no responsibility and worries and a singular beautiful name of 'Solstice'. Summer Solstice, the first official day of summer. The longest day of the year (and shortest night of the year). The day when the sun 'stands still'.

The word Solstice is composed from Latin. Sol for sun and sistere (to stand still). During the summer and winter solstices, the visible movement of the sun (north or south depending on your hemisphere) comes to a stop before reversing direction.

And, for those of you wondering about the scientific aspects of the summer solstice, it occurs at exactly the moment when the Earth's axis is tilted greatest towards the sun at degrees of 23° 26'.

The summer solstice was also traditionally represented by the sign of fertility, and June herself is a month that boasts of lush fertility and life. So, this is fitting.

I love the solstices. They are beautiful days that God has given us. One is long and bright and full of life and fruit and smells and activity...sleep few minutes dear children of the solstice, this is a time to revel and dance and make merry. Eat berries, cook outdoors, smell, laugh, run, feel the sun on your skin. Or, just languish in the shade in the heat of the afternoon. (-:

On the other hand, the dark and hibernation inspiring winter solstice is beautiful in its own inky black darkness and cold. It is pinpoint starlight nights that make us run for the shelter of home and hearth and help us turn inward to look at our souls and our homes and the quiet that rests within.Summer is outward and extroverted, winter is inward and introverted. They represent the yin and yang of ourselves. They represent our conservative and our liberal meshing. They represent a balance of the halves that make us whole.

Both days are gifts, and there are many artists who have spent lifetimes painting and communicating their views of the solstices, writing songs or choreographing dances. It is not out of our grasp and everyday reach to take a moment to appreciate the wonder and enchantment of a long bright June day. A day when time and the sun seem to 'stand still'.

Gather Ye Rosebuds

Ah, beautiful lush June. I have two favorite months, June and October. June is so fresh and perfect. Everything is in it's prime. The yellowjackets have not yet set up residence in mailboxes and such, the grass is not parched and brown. Roses bloom, fruit ripens, children are still excited to be home for the summer.

I have been busy helping Amanda learn to ride her bicycle without training wheels, milking our little goat, doing lamb aerobics (this is where you repeatedly lift a 60 pound lamb over a gate that they proceed to jump over again and again), providing ready-to-lay hens with treats of grass clippings and succulent weeds to lure them into early laying, filling swimming pools and pretending to know how to read those lovely manuals that come with them (in 16 different languages nonetheless).

The garden is full of blooming English roses; Othello, Mary Rose, James Galway. The honeysuckle is entwining with the mint and the hops are beginning to cover the sage plants. Sycamores are blooming, the starlings are on their second batch of babies and we have all grown accustomed to walking in the garden barefoot.

We spoiled ourselves the other day by making fresh goat milk ice cream with ripe strawberries from the garden; Breyers, move over!

May your June hold a Midsummer's Night Eve, or two, to remember. Such a magical time of year!

Blessed Complicated Living

In my previous post, I elaborated on simple uncomplicated living, of my younger years. Ah, but uncomplicated was without my lovely beautiful gifts-of-love children, and without my crooked old chock full farmhouse, and without all the knowledge I have learned from the years. Uncomplicated is safe...I forgot this. Real life is messy, dirty, unpleasant at times and never what you expected it to be. Dirty floors mean people have been walking on them, messy rooms mean there is life going on. Piles of papers and to-do lists slide this way and that. But it is beautiful, is it not? Yes, after thinking it over...the past was nice, but I'll take my complicated beautiful life any day!

Simple Uncomplicated Living

The simple path, the singular view, the way we looked at things when we were 22. These are the things that we need to get back to.

When I was 19, I had a blue plastic milk crate, about 8 textbooks, two pairs of jeans, some over sized sweatshirts and a futon. Oh was life good...I lived on frozen yogurt rejects from the yogurt store I worked at and stayed up late watching black and white reruns on a used couch owned by one of the other girls in my house. I hadn't yet figured out why people were the way they are. I had tons of questions about the universe. I owned nothing, I had no bills, I had no responsibility save my next term of classes and exams and showing up to the yogurt store the next day. Coffee was instant, not expensive Starbucks as I'm accustomed to now (and it was great!), discussions about life were full and exciting and the world smelled and felt good.

We should all try to get back to one blue plastic milk crate and a futon. Liberating and simple and real.

African Animals, Toledo Tornado and Soup

On Friday, I drove our daughter to Toledo, Ohio, which is only about 45 minutes south of us, to join her first grade class for a day at the zoo. It was a beautiful hot day and the zoo was clean and full of many animals and botanical beauties. Amazing that just hours after we drove through Toledo and Dundee, Michigan on the way home, tornadoes swept through the area decimating many homes and businesses.

Upon arriving home, that evening, my husband had a forlorn look on his face. "Can't you stock the cupboard with some cans of soup that are appealing to me?" He asked. Yes, husband-starvation sets in when a woman leaves home for longer than 8 hours (-: What sorts of soups would you like? I asked. He replied that he had looked in the cupboard and viewed only, and I quote, "Cream of Junkyard, Cream of Worm Bed and Cream of Sawdust" /-: !!! I laughed so hard at these descriptions that I had to share them with you. I think they translate to Cream of Shrimp, Cream of Mushroom and Cream of Celery or thereabouts! Enjoy that visual image if you will.

Dance, Pray, Love -Benedictus

“Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the music of laughter break through your soul.
.
As the wind wants to make everything dance,
May your gravity be lightened by grace.
.
Like the freedom of the monastery bell,
May clarity of mind make your eyes smile.
.
As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.
.
As silence smiles on the other side of what’s said,
May a sense of irony give you perspective.
.
As time remains free of all that it frames,
May fear or worry never put you in chains.
.
May your prayer of listening deepen enough
To hear in the distance the laughter of God.” — John O’Donohue

(Benedictus - A Book of Blessings)

Herb Rack Watercolor

And here, is the folk art watercolor I did of my herb rack. It was featured in the Summer 2010 issue of A Simple Life Magazine http://www.asimplelifemagazine.com/ in the article I wrote about the lore and history of the Herbwife/Herbwyfe.

I will be offering prints of this watercolor on my website, http://www.picturetrail.com/thehappypeasant

And, I must say it is easy to lose one's cares and relax inward when one is painting. I plan on doing more paintbrush lifting than I have in the last few months.

Herb Rack

This is the herb rack that hangs in my kitchen. There is a little tiny wooden 'widget' bird hanging in the center. Each year I replenish the herbs from my garden. I have painted a folk art rendition of this rack that I will share with you, as soon as I can figure out *how* to upload it, as it is quite a large file. Happy gathering.

Three Unlikely Friends

Yesterday afternoon the weather was perfect. So I put my pet Starling, Widget, out on his little hook (in his cage) on the back porch, to soak up some sun. Along came Mr. Daddy Cardinal and visited with Widget from the back of our lawn chairs, chip chip chipping to Widget. And, as if that weren't enough for an afternoon bird tea party...along came Miss Ruby Throated Hummingbird to sip some nectar alongside her colorful (and verbal) friends. I didn't catch a photo to share, but wanted to let you know that birds don't necessarily have to be 'of a feather' to flock together.