The Killdeer Family

The other day on our morning walk through the old trailer park (it is the best short cut to Starbucks) I saw this huge Killdeer sitting down. She was making the tale-tail Killdeer cry, but not moving. I couldn't help but wonder if she was hurt. We slowed down to get a look, but kept our distance since she was obviously in some sort of distress. Why was not a mystery for long. As we approached, suddenly she leaped up, revealing three babies- but the real source of her distress was a fourth whom had not made it safely under her wing. (I am assuming it is a female- since Killdeer are one of those plovers where there is no difference in appearance).

Since then we have walked this path many times- not only for coffee, but there is always something to explore or see on this route. I have always marveled at how destruction- both man-made and natural- promotes new activity by creating new habitats. I have not seen the babies again, but on every walk we are greeted by the nervous parents who cry and make a great commotion in no doubt their effort to keep us far away from the nest. They do this curious thing of spreading their tail feathers, almost like little directional flags so we are sure to follow them. I read that this might actually be their common behavior of pretending to have a broken wing in order to lead predators away from their nests.

I love discovering these things- seeing the behavior and then going to read about it. Nature and animals are truly marvelous, and very humbling. I get so wrapped up in myself and my struggles, that sometimes I forget all of the life that goes on around me- constantly. It doesn't take much to remind me that I am only a very small piece of this very large world. Thanks Killdeer family.

Bye Chili

Chili has been hanging in dogdamonium (what I call my house) for the past few weeks. She went back to her family today, and while I was glad to see her home with her family, I was sad to see her go. Funny how that is.

My house is covered in white hair, and the trash has been broken into more often recently (not that it was her- but she may have brought out the bravado in Jake), but I was used to her. All you need for Chili is a stick or something for her to chase. As much as I love Jake, he does not chase. Sometimes it is nice to have a dog that interacts. Short of my being a squirrel, I ain't getting that outta Jake!! (that's PA talk for ya!)

A different personality is always fun to add to the mix.

(One last thought- for anyone who had ever tried to stand on a couch, look through a camera, dangle a treat from above, and get three dogs to stay in frame and look at you at the same time will totally appreciate what a fabulous procrastination technique it is!!)

$%^# Thesis!

Working on a thesis, as I think many of you can attest is like a waterboard torture (I am only guessing here) of the most delicious water (or pick your fav beverage) you can imagine. A labour of love that you just want to kill- or will make you want to cry, and throw in the towel yourself. Basically I am at that point that I just want it to be over, I want it to be good, I want it to be over, I want it to be the paper I have dreamed about, I want it to be over, I want to answer- "Done!" when someone asks me about it, I want it to be over, I want to go on to the growing list of "things to do when the thesis is done",I want it to be over, I don't want to think or talk about it anymore, I want it to OVER!!

These are the images I get these days- my beautiful loving dog looking at me with those soulful and hopeful eyes, begging to play- for longer then 10 min. "Come on ma!!" And then the table at Starbucks- where I begrudingly drag myself to (and am at right now) because I know that I will get more work done there- even if I do have to pay for coffee and internet access.

But then I love what I am doing, and I look that handsome dog in the eyes and think about the better life that this thesis will bring (or at least the land of milk and honey I pretend is at the end of this particular road!!) I think about all of the women who have helped me learn and write about women farmers and their herstory. I think about publishing an article and findig a way to continue this work I have begun! I think- two more weeks! Yay! Arrg!

Breath. Center. Now get to work.

Bar Cords and Learning to Talk

Bar Cords: Can't do 'em. Okay well not yet.

The other weekend I was housesitting for a friend and I found a flute on the bookself, I can still play a Bb scale without thinking. I think about how I used to play the flute, especially as I teach myself the guitar. It seemed easy. Then I remember that I played under instruction everyday for 11 years. Wow. Maybe I should go back to the flute. Nah.

In the meantime, to steal from the Boss, I got this guitar and I'm learning how to make it talk. It is amazing to watch your hands learn to do new things. Most of the stuff I do with my hands: typing, writing, the occasional obscene gesture- these are learned motions, and I don't even remember the process. But this, these are new formations, new movements, and sometimes it seems that my hands will never get it. Then they do, and then they do without thinking... pretty cool.

So my vocabulary grows, and someday, someday those bar cords will be apart of the easy vernacular.

The trailer park next door

Trailer parks have a certain connotation, a stigma. Yet all I could think about as I watched "them" slowly tear it down was, these were peoples homes. There were hammocks, lampposts, even a giant engraved address stone. Some people moved out early, others held on to the very end. The process has been gruesome, and sad. Slowly they have cleared out the debris, they have cut down the trees, and now they are building new homes- habitat for humanity homes.

kind of ironic really.

If a man walks in the woods for love of them half of each day, he is in danger
of being regarded as a loafer. But if he spends his days as a speculator,
shearing off those woods and making the earth bald before her time, he is deemed
an industrious and enterprising citizen. ~Henry David Thoreau