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Merlin.
In the woods bordering wetlands I came upon entrails: quite fresh by what I could tell, although perhaps I ought to remember that the freshest fish I've ever seen has at least a day between my seeing it and the sea, most likely more. Crows and a vulture circled overhead, calling, annoyed that I'd forestalled their feast. They'd not yet touched the ( Read more... ) -
Take it.
The farm is biodynamic as well as organic, and last week Caroline asked me to do the biodynamic preparations for the compost. I knew something about biodynamics before getting there, namely that biodynamics is a form of ceremonial magic in which one enacts certain rituals, such as filling a horn with cow manure and eggshells at a certain phase of ( Read more... ) -
I'll shake you from your sleep.
In the morning when I eat bread with butter and honey and usually ignore the communal herbal pot for darker tea, sometimes with a bit of the whiskey that I brought with me in it, the others read the paper or their books. Sometimes I read too, but usually I watch the cats. There is a pride of small lions that lives around the farm. Bob and Caroline ( Read more... ) -
Erasmus! Donde Caroline?
They have sixty acres of land, most of it fields for growing straw for the livestock, some of it streams and tangles of brambles and trees, horrid thickets of wild roses that do me mischief whenever they're able. Five acres are for the farm proper, and one plus a bit more for the house. I've always lived in the city, so distance is, for me, divided ( Read more... ) -
You, sir, are a fishmonger.
I'm told that one of the tenents of Buddhism dictates that one mustn't earn one's living from the flesh of another. One may not be a pimp, then, or a butcher. I like the logic that places the two side by side. And I will admit that this is likely the best reasoning I've yet heard on why I oughtn't do what I do. I do not mention this because I ( Read more... ) -
Farewell, m'loves.
For three weeks at the start of October I'll be disappearing from these internets to help haul in the last of the harvest on a farm outside of Princeton. They grow vegetables and they have orchards. They raise a great many laying hens in movable chicken coops, and they keep two goats. I'm not yet sure that I'll have a place to charge my phone, so I ( Read more... ) -
Bear hat.
Gentlemen like to send me intricate gifts, well-crafted and non-trivial works of art in which they imply that I enjoy being raped by bears. It's nice being loved. -
Welcoming the new chill, the coming dark.
Last night Whitney and I hosted a potluck for the Equinox. Friends arrived in a trickle at first, but soon the house was quite full and I flew about, doing what I could to honour requests for chairs, wine glasses, knives, tall tales, cheese, piggy back rides, and the means to solve the riddle of the maze etched on my shoulder. Our counters and ( Read more... ) -
The Secret Garden.
I'm reading The Secret Garden for the first time in something like twenty years. It was given to me by my aunt. She has always lived terribly far away: it came in the post in a box wrapped in brown paper. It was the first book I ever read that contained such a limited number of pictures. There was a solemnity to the object, then, before I ever read ( Read more... )
