small inspiration

Re-post from L/J blog imported 4/22/09:

"Attention is love, what we must give

children, mothers, fatherss, pets,

our friends, the news, the woes of others.

What we want to change, we curse and then

pick up a tool. Bless whatever you can

with eyes and hands and tongue. If you

can't bless it, get ready to make it new "

by Marge Piercy

salutatations and importations

i have been writing a blog a@ Live/journal on general philosophical and temporal thoughts...
things real and not-real; the japanese call it the from the"dreaming world", and the
aboriginal native people of australia view their life purpose as a dreaming of the "songlines" that
hold the world together, in proper order. i am a poet and i love wordplay and writing
in any form, perhaps excepting ojibwe, urdu, korean and textspeak.
and any other indecipherable( to me) forms of communication... i recall many
elements of "newspeak" from "1984" by george orwell. although i am still
living in the past of real mailboxes and physical letters inside, i have willingly
( with xtreme help,and many pushes and shoves towards) entered into the
cyberworld, with its blogging and e-speak and the short n' sweet byts of twitter.
so far, i rate it: doubleplusgood, or i imagine in txtspeak: ++ good.

ay any rate, i have imported the L/j blog into my -switchbacks- blog here at blogger.
certainly, apologies are in order, having already written enough posts with some
overlaps of subjects, huge phrases,and ideas. i am old enough to repeat myself %D and i did.
....still i am a wordy person, sometimes the same ideas come
around into my consciousness in some new context...these i return to again and again.
other than these warnings,i will say that my tangents are usually caught soon enough by the
'inner editor's' watchful eye, and i try to rein them in to brief and interesting. hopefully.

i am looking forward to being linked here, i also write a 'guest' gardening blog
on ilona's garden journal
(http://ilonagarden@blogspot.com/ discussing primarily our good green earth,
growing things and nature's beauty, concrete info-generating, tip sharing and an
all around great forum to dialog about the vast world of gardening experiences.

as far as -switchbacks- as i said in the greetings post, anything goes into this blog
stew pot, cooks til the flavors combine, and becomes the the word soup
that we as writers cook up. here's hoping for a tasty mix!
once more, looking forward to lively dialog and electric discussion
in this brave new world.

vty, J-lea

greetings and salutations

i am a writer, collage artist, organic gardener and farmer,
photographer, and compulsive haiku writer...only a few of the
many"hats "that i have worn in my life, as well as those on my head
right now. i am also a creator of bonsai, and have a lovely, but
unruly collection of little trees. their culture teaches me patience,
and calm thoughtfulness. i live with livestock, 3 dogs, 2 goats and an
old halfblind mule.... i own two horses, morgan and
quarterhorse mares. both are young and beautiful; they
take off full of high spirits, running wild and free across
the pasture like little children at recess. the morgan, Poppaea
looks just like the "Black Beauty" of my childhood reading.
she is as spirited, strong-willed and flighty
as my quarterhorse horse is gentle and laid back.
i am learning to train Rosa, the Q/H; she is three yrs. old
and we are learning together. so far we are both doing well.

i live in a 100 yr. old farmhouse( wood heated ) on pre-civil war homestead
land. it was the home of the local doctor, built in 1906, who was considered
quite"affluent" in our little community. the house is plain and rambling,with
a deep wraparound porch. inside is always dark, and cool- a deliberate design
for georgia summers. as i dont have A/C either, i feel it works pretty well.
it is a typical one-story old southern house, but in the mantles, trim and
elaboratly carved front door there are touches of fine detailing and a
craftsman's work. many souls have been born here, lived and died here;
the house creaks and pops at night. i have lived with these noises for 23
years now and they seem friendly comfortable creaks. what i assumed
might be ghostly are the sounds of an old house, settling in the night.

i have had this house and farm for 23 years now, and i will be
its last resident. i have found my "place", and my life-path within this
small, private, green world; i will tend it and enjoy it for the rest of
my days. it is a quiet peaceful country life. living with livestock, as well as
sacred space for my creative self are only a few of its many rewards.
it's puzzling to my city friends why i live so simply--in such a drafty
old house, always carrying wood in winter, or sitting on the porch on
a hot summer day. they have not lived here, in all its beauty...
i think the modern sealed-off climate-controlled way of life is much
worse; for the most part, folks rarely spend much time outside.
to me, nature's absence in"modern" lifestyles is such an incredible loss.

i write much about my life on the farm, as well as many other
random-yet-connected topics. i have a wide range of interests,
and i hope to find connections and dialog here. this is why i have
called this blog "switchbacks". i am guilty of free-association,
wordiness, and i often zig-zag from topic to topic. like hiking a
mountain trail, i follow the path uphill, which rarely runs
straight up to the top.
thus the switchbacks become necessary; you travel farther
in steps, but you get there easier, and must be strong and
long-winded to make the climb.

and so, this is my opening greeting to the blogworld! i hope
to exchange words with many folks, but i certainly am
able to generate plenty, on my own....

best regards from the switchback Queen...vty, j-lea

inspiration

"But we must try to find our True Conscience, our True Self, the very Center,

for this is the only first-rate choice-making center. Here lies all originality,

talent, truthfulness, courage and cheerfulness.

Here only lies the ability to choose the good and the grand,

the true and the beautiful."   

brenda ueland ( from 'If You Want to Write')

goodbyes

once upon a time 20 years ago, i walked a path with a man who seemed fated for me. we were immediately
drawn to eachother. our chemistry, quick  wit and wordplay were our tender weapons as we found our way
into eachother's hearts. i found a great teacher and lover in this dear man.....we had a child together, a surprise
guided solely by fate and not by reason. this most holy gift brought me such joy, and changes in my life that
i never had expected were possible.  to me the word 'mother' was an enigma.... but children come to teach us that
our own childhood assumptions arent always true;  that pure, unconditional love is possible in life.
our son has grown into an impressive young man, hardworking, loving and giving; he is a musician
and songwriter, as well. he has the biggest heart, and quick intelligent wit just like his father.

i honor our long and loving relationship with this writing. we went our separate ways years ago.
when we parted, he sent me this poem, a beautiful expression of how loving, and life, and leaving intertwine.
yesterday was his 71st birthday, and  illness is slowly taking him away, i felt strongly that i should find this
poem and send it back to him.  he has parkinson's disease, and it is hard to see
him struggling with life. i still see him laughing with me out beside alison lake....
our dance is coming to an end.
i can only wish him happiness and love all around him now, and this poem is my  'letting go'  for him.

-In Blackwater Woods-

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black rivers of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

i am sorry i dont know author's name, but this is attributed to him or her... with deep gratitude.

God Bless, Ray...

vty, Jo

peace with the cyberworld

i have been writing of this issue in my posts here also as a guest  on my friend's
garden blog... i am of a "certain age"....there are certainly many  of us left who mistrust
new and unfamiliar ways of  e-communication. i have already made the leap
into cybernetworking, but would still prefer walking to the mailbox for a "real" letter....
having said this, i have gained some peace of mind.  the true issue
is not an issue at all, when it comes to human need to communicate.

posted from http://ilonagarden.blogspot.com ...

my latest few posts here have clarified for me this one true thing: All is Interconnected/
We are All One...on the "Web" or engaged in the web of life, the many different means of
communication all work to serve the same human needs.
my wrestling with these new e-forms of contact is part of what history would say
defines 'my generation' ( the Who song- did you think of it right off? )
we were mostly hippies, sometimes back-to-the-landers, and luddites many years ago.
some of us just stayed there...
we are the lucky ones, in these tough times IMHO. woo-hoo i have just txtspoken.

my main point here is that be it birdsong or twitter, we have a need for communication
as well as a connection to all living things. we are human, and must be interconnected;
we are simply made so!
to sit and ponder a nonexistent difference is precious time
better spent out in the yard....

vty,   johanna-lea

my best friend is "Mommy" again

although my circle of close women friends are for the most part past their child-bearing years, it seems to have
become a much-noted trend towards grandparents raising their grandkids. this happens for many reasons...for love, or low money, mistreatment,  an absent working parent,
or simply "not-full-grown" children becoming parents too young.... as we pass
out of being "the mother" in our lives and reach the age of  "the crone", it is a fitting time to find your true self again,  expressing the many interests and talents that we gladly gave up,or put aside for the
raising of our children.
many blended families form extended households for economic reasons, and there are often adult sons and daughters
returning to the nest, with their offspring in tow.
often this makes good economic sense in these tough times,
however the issues of childcare can be blurred, and the responsible and more experienced, wiser
women take up their "role" again. 
whether willingly or unwillingly, this is a great gift is for their grandchildren, who should be first
and foremost.

this is an age of baby-mommas and baby-daddys accepted as simply another way of life...with no real social stigma anymore in this brave new world of relationships. some young people make it just fine
out in the world ending up
in parternerships or marriages with families on their own. others just  linger in the "failure to launch" mode, stuck in the world of their youth, quite content at home... just adding some new offspring to the parental nest. 
more often than not, it's work, school or just plain lazyness that requires grandparents to step in
and help out, with babysitting and childcare.

where the lines blur between "helping out" and "raising" grandchildren, loving grandparents often find
themselves trapped into old familiar roles that they have long left behind....both loving, yet resenting their grown kids'allowing this to happen...
it is truly  a conundrum of pure love... do you give all  you can give to your dearly loved grandchildren, while your own grown kids 'do their thing'...
or do you turn away and allow life's cruelties, and relentless  circumstances to play themselves out as they will.    there arent many entirely "happy endings"
with either choice you make. it is the children of dysfunctional families that always suffer, so how can you turn out the adult children and "say go make your own way"....sometimes that way is straight to the hell of chaos, poverty and drugs. an awful fate for young children with ignoring,self-concerned  young parents.

held hostage by the innocent victims that you truly cherish. you are often the main source of pure,
sweet and untainted love for them.  this is the beginning that children need at a tender age, in order to be able to cope emotionally with life as they grow up. 
the conscientious choice to put their children first is often lacking in today's young adults, who just  reproduce, with little thought of how they will handle their own lives.
in that respect, they are still children too,  and the badly need to get their own lives together....
in order to have any successful "family " on their own.

i am writing this "sunday sermon" for my best friend, who is lovingly captured by her dear grandchildren.
i feel is she is saving their lives. she is "Mommy"....period.... to her 2 1/2 yr.old grandaughter and has also taken over the mothering of her dear and darling  5 month old grandson, from the time he was born...
all the while their mother and father
still carry on the drama and fighting that is their life. i see how very wearying the daily care of two very young children affects her entire life...   she is often tired and overwhelmed, as any mother would be.   
but just try on that hat @ 55!!
once she told me her "Mommy glands" are atrophied....in undertaking this sacrifice of her time and energy,
she is a true example of the good Mother,  willing to go the distance because of real love, no matter what it takes.
it is a puzzle she must work out daily, but in my eyes she is a small saint......working small miracles.
there are too many  grandmothers out there who share her story, in some form or another.
always try and give them a hand when you can, even saints get tired, and need a nap....

much love and respect to you,  patti.

vty  J_lea

best april fool's jokes, again

the early morning awakening of more rain beating on the roof didnt help....my first answer to writers block ?
pretty much sums it up for me..... haiku for fool's day:

-vanity-

in early light look
deep into the cruel mirror.
where's that spring chicken?

-reality-

this tough old bird will
make strong tasty soup,
full of gristle and joy.


vty, J_lea