Irene blew through here and we were without power and water for a couple of days.

We were lucky compared to many, but we did get a little swimming pool in the basement, so there’s been some throwing out of damaged things, and a lot of laying stuff out to dry.

Being without hot water for four days sure makes me grateful for my shower now that it’s back.

My stash of frozen tomato sauce was parsed out over the winter and spring, and I defrosted the last jar just as the new tomato crop started to color.

I want more jars of sauce in the freezer this winter, and planted twice as many tomato plants, but we’ll see how many tomatoes get into the sauce pot once leaf spot diseases and tomato sandwiches have had their way.

Thank goodness there’s always the local farm stand.

Mornings are the low point of my day. I have wisps of dreams and their strange worlds left in my mind and it takes me a while to get going. The best approach is to move slowly, and to “take the day gentle”. When I do, I notice things. Moments of light. Subtle, constant changes that bring me into the current moment.

Seems the shadows aren’t only in my head, but moving all around me.

Click on image to read signs.

I’ve had a batch of old metal sunray-shaped findings stashed away in a drawer for years. Every so often I’d take them out and think how I wanted to make something with them, but instead they’d end up back in the cabinet.

Last week, I gave myself some time off to refill the creative well. I went to the library and chose randomly inspiring books on Andy Goldsworthy, Shaker furniture, Antique Jewelry and William Morris. I scribbled ideas in my sketchbook. I wandered off and washed a couple of windows. I tidied my desk. Eventually I dug through my drawers of materials… and there were the findings, waiting.

So I made something that isn’t strictly anything, and had a wonderful time doing it.

Now this blanket-curtain-whatever-it-is is hanging on the wall, catching the light in its old metal shimmery way, and delighting me. I want to make a GIANT one if I can hunt down more of these findings. The bagful is all used up.

“It doesn’t matter who you be, just be who you be. Be different.”

The Hudson Valley is packed with artists and it’s exciting to discover who is just down the road. I love these guys.

How it stands there against the dark
of this late rainy hour, young and clean,
swaying its generous branches
yet absorbed in its essence as rose;
with wide-open flowers already appearing,
each unsought and each uncared-for.
So, endlessly exceeding itself
and ineffably from itself come forth,
it calls the wanderer, who in evening contemplation
passes on the road:
Oh see me standing here, see how unafraid I am
and unprotected. I have all I need.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

The color. The patience. The detail. I love this.

Seen only feet from these newly planted sweet young things…

Needless to say, she is not alone. This morning I saw a baby bunny inside the vegetable garden. At least the little ones run away fast and give me some sense of righteous satisfaction.

I am connecting with my inner Farmer McGregor, and dreaming of electric fences.

Your worst enemy cannot harm you
as much as your own unguarded thoughts.

~The Buddha

Weeding the asparagus patch, it strikes me how much like thoughts weeds are; ubiquitous, tough and insidious.

Now that I tend a garden I’ve discovered that weeds are clever, growing as close to a ‘good’ plant as possible, twining in and around the stalks and leaves, making it difficult to tease them out. My thoughts twist together as well, the undermining, repetitive, hopeless ideas tangled up with the useful, helpful, hopeful ones.

So I weed carefully, and I meditate. I can’t get rid of all the weeds, or of my negative thinking, but I can tease out the difference between constructive and negative thoughts, between the ground ivy and the asparagus, making room for sunshine and water.