Dishpantheism

spent a few days on the edge of the carrizo. played babysitter to sheep and horses and chickens. hank the collie (the only boy of the bunch) nipped at my heels and attempted to herd me across the farmyard every morning. i bid him lie down, and he stayed, eyes fixed on the back of me until i’d crossed to the gated enclosure where he spends his off days. turned. “hank, come!” and he was at my feet like a shot. tippy is the elder collie and the most put upon. thinks she’s a lap dog.

the carrizo has a dearth of trees, so every one surrounding my aunt’s ranch is
chock-full of nests. water is also scarce. beetles and bees and birds come to drink or puddle in every bit of standing water. jackrabbits and foxes, too. each morning the sound of birds is deafening. the rest of the day is quiet except for the wind and the soft crooling of chickens. nights are coyote chorus and scent of junipers. i stood under the harvest moon yellow as a yolk. i see the moon, the moon sees me/ the moon sees someone i want to see.

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went for a walk around the lake after my return from the ranch. greeted five tarantulas who’d gone a-courting. found a barn owl feather. delighted in running it across my cheeks. nibbled rosehips. tried to capture a photo of the last of the goldenrod, but the wind was blowing, so they were uncooperative.

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discovered a parcel in my mailbox today. a thoughtful biped sent to me a splendiferous book. unfortunate that i can’t now send hugs and kisses via return post. ah wellidy.

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planting red shallots and yellow potato onions. babington leeks. cabbages and neeps. the purple tree collards are several years old now and taller than i am. after the frost comes they’ll go in the soup pot.

went for some nice hikes and walks on the lakeshore. saw a tree fox one morning with the most magnificent tail. he just stood in the road, staring. this evening i saw five tarantulas. they’re looking for love this time of year. one had met his demise. a flattened, hairy wreck in truck treads at the side of the dirt road.

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applied for yet another library job. i saw that there’s an italian sausage seller looking for holiday help. i’ve never hawked sausages before. maybe i’ll give it a shot.

there are asters in bloom along the creek. the lake ringed with goldenrod. in the high gullies the poison oak has turned red and pink. wild rosehips and urchin galls also incarnadine. acorns are piling on the valley floor. looking very autumnal hereabouts.

wellidy.

a few books came by mail. their unexpected arrival was most welcome. a british YA writer with whom i was not familiar. apparently she wrote a lot about chalk downlands and moors. and orphans. dowie and wae.

took to the trail. hiked the headlands. enjoyed the briny air and owl feathers strewn beneath gum trees. peered far out into green water looking for whales. alas, no pelagic beasties. just a woman creeping up behind me and then shouting, “this is AMAZING! i can’t believe it’s real!” before revealing that she was visiting from missouri and had never clapped eyes on the pacific. she was sort of wonderful to behold. the marsh hawks were also lovely. i stopped at a tiny smokehouse on the beach and nabbed some fish for my supper. the cooks were listening to captain beefheart. it did make me to smile.

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had a wisdom toof yanked a few days back. my phantom tooth itches and all i want to do is grind and gnash it against the others to relieve the sensation. maddening. but i’m glad to be rid of it. it was a son of a bitch. an empty house is better than a bad tenant.

applied for another library job. extremely low pay compared to my previous positions. oh wellidy. better than a poke in the eye, i reckon. at least i’ll have the summers free if i should net this one. perhaps i’ll even get a bit of traveling done.

saying adios to the wisdom toofs tomorrow morn. a little nervous. (a lot nervous.)

picking lutz winter keeper beets and galapagos tomatoes from the garden. fending off the beetle hordes. longing for a lucia trip. maybe next month if the big sur backcountry roads are passable.

rereading some oyeyemi, wendy walker, and james branch cabell. happy for the cooler weather. looking forward to firing up the wood stove.

strange dream. a sort of fairy queen appears and we argue over veils in a steamer trunk. her capricious affections reverse track and i have to flee for my life. on a bus. i’m so frightened that i can’t sit still, staring out of the window in agitation, flinching at every creak of the bus. pull the cord. scream at the driver to let me off. he’s sympathetic and stops in an undesignated unloading zone which happens to be directly in front of a gunsmith’s shop. i hop out and the gunsmith is one i know in real life. i keep trying to buy something from him, though it isn’t a gun. he becomes increasingly frustrated because every time i hand him a bill it shrinks into shriveled counterfeit. he makes a joke, but i know he’s annoyed. i offer to pay with my debit card but it keeps warping. finally, after a long angry line has formed behind me, and all of the shop boys are on the verge of tears, the transaction is complete. everyone cheers. i’m nearly crying. i say, “thanks, sykes.” and he says, “no problem, kid.” he pats my arm and i climb back onto the bus. the driver also pats my arm. we start to drive away again and a fight breaks out between a bunch of men over guns and politics. i want to get away. i make a noise, a quiet but unearthly noise, and for a moment the men stop bickering. the bus stops. several of the men behind me stand to debus. as they file by they’re carrying AK-47s. i shrink in my seat. the last of their group is a woman. she points the muzzle of her gun at me and hisses. suddenly i sit up straight and glare at her defiantly. she laughs that it isn’t loaded and departs. i wait a moment and start to depart also. on the last step of the bus stairs i pause and survey the town i’ve landed in. on the sidewalk stands the fairy queen. suddenly i hear the word “spinnet” in my head. the queen’s lips don’t move, but i hear the word. the language is deformed somehow so that i’m not entirely sure i’ve heard right. then it’s tenpins. pinnets. spindrift. yes, spindrift. that’s the word. she flashes white and i wake up.

haven’t been able to get spindrift out of my head all day. i knew the meaning of the word, but decided to google it to see if there existed an alternative meaning. nope. but interestingly, i did discover that leucothea is the goddess associated with spindrifts. her oracle takes the form of dreams. in the odyssey she offers mr. o a veil to protect him and keep him afloat, and counsels him to let go of his broken raft, his torn cloak. neat-o.

in other news…

had a lovely hike with a lovely fella. (dignum memoria: those people whom you encounter that from the jump put you at ease — hang onto those.) found monardella and giant nettle-leaf hyssop and hummingbird sage along the trail. stood in the shade jointly huffing the scent of crushed leaves. still haven’t broken the nervous habit of talking incessantly about myself in the presence of someone new-ish. (fie!) in spite of that it was an incredibly nice time with a charming, witty, thoughtful biped. and a sexy one to boot.

it’s muggy now, but i think the rain forecast for today isn’t going to make an appearance. the corn and tomatoes need a sip. and so.

can’t wait to get out of this country for a spell. it’s suffocating on so many levels and for so many reasons.

oh wellidy. there’s always music.

found a crowling in the yard on a hot morning. it drank and drank from the cat’s saucer. the parents sat in the pine tree yawing for hours for their grounded spawn. it started flopping uncontrollably and i picked it up. heard the rattling in its lungs. it’d drunk so greedily it drowned itself. died in my hands. the parents cawed and panted until long after the sun had gone down.

found a litter of feral kittens at father’s. two calico. one marmalade. three black. serendipitously discovered the word ‘nessletripe’ or ‘nessle-draft’ meaning the runt or weakling of a litter.

dreamed stress dreams. then dreamed nagual dreams. liminal beings. then couldn’t sleep. the news today hasn’t helped insomnia.

decent┬ádates. the urgency somewhat sated even if the conversation wasn’t as stimulating.

northward travel and then travel travel.