Thursday, March 12, 2009
There is sunrise and sunset, and then there is moon set. The one I watched this morning from my back porch at around seven, Mountain Time, was magical. I could see no creature between myself and the moon; no houses, no animals, no cars, no highways, no power lines- just me and the moon. There were no other people in my house, my husband is away. Three dogs still slept in their dog beds. The horses were huddled in the barn against the frozen temperature.
And out in front of me was the beautiful moon in a frozen dark blue sky. It was not Good Night, Moon, it was Good Morning Moon.
It has been ten years since my Mom died on this day. More than 3650 days have passed through the hourglass. The earth has made ten revolutions around the sun, millions and millions and millions of miles. The cells inside my brain have regenerated themselves over and over, and still I remember the snowy cold Cape Cod winter night my Mom died as clearly as the bright moon shining on me this morning.
We think of you all the time, Mom. All the time. And your great-grand daughter with the middle name after yours hears stories about you and sees your smiling face on the wall. Your kids have spread out like a fan, and your grand kids and great-grand kids. You got so much done in 64 years. I'm right here behind you, not really totally accepting even now that I have no earthly mother. To mothers everywhere, and to morning moon set.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
This is the age of sustainability (if we are going to make it as a planet), and I have a question. Does anybody need any rabbits? For anything? Rabbit pets, rabbit hats, rabbit pies? Because I have something going on out in my hay barn which is pretty much Rabbit Heaven to the bunnies that live there. They have been having a gas all winter flinging hay about and eating sweet grass and alfalfa to their hearts content.
How did they get there? Well, the people who owned the homestead before we did were so happy to be selling the place, that they day they moved, the former owner just opened her rabbit cages and said to the four rabbits she was releasing, "Go forth and have fun." And so, they did. It's been four years since then, and the rabbit population around the places surges, and then recedes, depending on the boldness of the coyote band that lives down the hill. They have to be bold to brave the burro, as he enjoys kicking at anything canine. Coyotes. . . bring em on. Pico will kick to his hearts content, and the horses will join in.
So when the coyotes decide to have a raid, they sneak up, give sharp little barks from different points around the barnyard, and then swoop in. They are quiet until they catch something, and then the yipping and shrieking begins as they take their dinner down the hill to share, avoiding the flying hoofs of the equines.
Well, the coyotes haven't been up lately, and the rabbits have been multiplying faster than ever. They have new tunnels through the hay bales, and new bunnies. So, if ANYONE, in this age of sustainability has the inclination to catch my rabbits for that Welch menu item, or any other purpose, please come! We will catch the rabbits with lettuce, which they cannot resist. We will fill up those Have a Heart cages with furry friends. They make great pets! They make great hats! I've heard they make great pie! They are organically raised on the best hay the valley has to offer. There are no pesticides or hormones or antibiotics in thier systems. Help!
Oh, I have to be very careful and keep the one my granddaughter is holding in the picture taken last summer. She has become attached to it. His name is Carrot Cake, and he is pretty large now, and pretty friendly. You may not have him, but you may have any of the dozen that tear around with him.