These guys have been circling around. Crossing pastures, head up, tail hanging low, trotting with their tongues bouncing along. Butt down, tails tucked, as they scritter across the highway. Evenings their calls echo up from the creek with their compatriots answering from the valley.
Read MoreIt’s nearing the end of summer. That right there, folks, is blatant denial written down on a page for the whole world to see. Summer is over, at least in these parts where summer is not dictated as much by solstices and equinox calendars but by the buzz of the land. Goldenrod has claimed its territory amongst the dried grasses. Sage is its companion to watch the waning sun and the tightening of dawn and gloaming…
Read MoreHave you ever felt a little dismayed, confused or troubled by the fact you don’t seem to fit into a tidy box? That’s me, mostly, most of the time. Just when I think I’ve got it figured, something comes prancing across the scene and I am entranced. All I want to do is incorporate that shiny, bit of sparkle into my life somehow. Or, there are sides of me that don’t neatly align, they are contradictory, overlapping with conflicting ideas, controversy or friction. Some of these contradictions I’ve had since I was a child. The earliest memories I can muster up are coloured with horses and those who ride them, especially gritty characters with a bit of fray, or worn patches. ….
Read MoreHey all! I’m super excited to let you all know we’ll be having a house concert here January 18, 2019. Zachary and I instamet via my other Instagram account this past fall. Turns out he’s pretty good friends with our neighbours on the other side of the creek. We’re pretty happy to have some live music going on here in the depths of winter. The dark creeps out past the corners of the house during January…
Read MoreHanging from hooks. Sitting on the floor. Baskets have a purpose. Their form states function. And the appearance of a form circles back on the idea of function. Our baskets have two sturdy leather handles, made for slinging over a hook. Shaker pegs work best. Cotton canvas creates the body, a functional material that is hefty and not scared of work.
Read MoreStanding in the barn, looking out at the field, my arm pulled straight by my hand hooked under the pommel of my roping saddle. Geese fly, strung long against the grey blue clouds hanging heavy in the north. The sun sneaks out and warms my arm. The ground shakes beneath my feet as grain trucks rush by, fighting back the rain with their urgency.
It is all clarity.
Read MoreSmall kindnesses live here.
Today, I am, with my sister and good friends, giving a concert for a dying woman. A woman who, barely knowing me, offered me one of the kindest gestures I’ve ever received. We will, with some of her best friends and neighbours gather in the palliative unit, sing old-timey gospel songs, a Marty Robbins tune or two and some we’ve written, inspired by people in our town and family. Songs with dialogues about living close to the ground, watching…
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