Kids Movie Night at The Abbey

Who knew I'd like the sound of these words so much: "Kids movie night tonight at our house! Parents optional..."

Thanks, V and DJ for the spontaneous dark-night-of-winter-in-the-woods warmth, inclusion, and thoughtfulness. Gotta love your fellow communitarian neighbors looking out for your well-being in the form of a night off. Life is good.

PS How To Tame Your Dragon is good, too. The kids definitely thought so ("kids" being loosely defined - see photo)

Solstice Glows Orange

like a salmonberry...

Sometimes, when the sun doesn't shine, you have to look extra hard for beauty. This means slowing down, changing your definitions, altering your expectations. And when you look through this lens, you'll always find it. Beauty.

Happy Summer Solstice, Walker Creek. Liquid sunshine, golden berries, glowing children.

[P.S. Much as it may appear, the sun did actually shine on the actual Solstice. M & I watched a gaggle of nine children, who had a heavenly time playing outside together in the Meadow, and later our family played at the creek near the watering hole - the air felt just warm enough that I plunged into the deep part of the cool creek. And came out renewed.]

May Day "Party"

Hurray for Community Work Parties!

R&L were busy putting up our gorgeous new signs (thanks T for her work and artistry); while V&K were wrangling with the mower, that pesky mower we so need as our spring grass rapunzels; and the rest of us Hit The Road!

Our group of eight (four big people, four little people) filled four giant trashbags with roadside litter, along one of the most gorgeous stretches of Walker Valley Road.

Hurray for litter-free lands! Hurray for Walker Creek Community!

Skookumuke Meeting at the Abbey

Skookumuke, Skagit's first ever that I'm aware of ukulele group met on a very snowy day in March.  We are up to over 8 chords thank you very much and busting out Dylan, Old Time Religion and several gospel songs.  We don't sing well, play a little worse than we sing and just have a great time.  Anyone wants to join, let us know.

Dandelion Fritters: Befriend an Enemy

Who knew dandelions could be so beautiful?

People fight them and are vexed by them - so hard to pull out of the ground they are. Dent de lion. Tooth of the lion. Dandelion. Damn hard to pull out of the ground they are.

So today I took Katie out to the center, the meadow, with a woven basket with a handle and we filled it up with dandelion blossoms. Just the bright yellow pompomed tops, all fluffy and ready to cheer.

We mixed up a cup of flour with a cup of milk, added and egg and voila. Goop in which to dip them and fry them up in a pan. One side. Then the other. Comfort food. Gooey center, egg-y soft sponge exterior - sprinkled with powdered sugar, dipped in sryup, or hot sesame oil if you prefer the savory. The spicy seed oil won over with the adults.

How fun to make friends with an enemy. Or, more a stranger you've seen around and never really stopped to say hi - to talk to - to discover. What!? We can eat dandelion treats? Make dandelion wine? Make dandelion greens salad? Dry dandelion root for tea? I mean, really, how cool is that. Why fight them in our fields of green. Just go pick them.

A member of our sister community, Bianca Raffety, does the same befriending techninque with a yoga pose. A pose that has vexed her, eluded her, called to her in its challenge - she embraces for a year. Takes that sucker on. Gives it a big ole hug, every day, when some days you might want to punch it in the gut. She untangles its reason for calling to her, through diligent effort every day. This year, Hanuman.

Today, I felt as if I made friends with a maligned stranger - saw him in a different light. These flowers we poison and chop and bludgeon and hack. These roots that we pull and break off and curse. These wild yellow pompoms - I can eat them in gooey delight. [hello, Dandelion Blossom Fritters]

Remember to Stop -- and Fire Up the Sauna

Ceaseless dripping from the sky, lake-finding adventure through soggy field, warm bath, hot soup. Fire dries clothes. Rest. Listen to ceaseless dripping from the sky.

Wood sauna? asks Ken. Yes. Forge creek. Ice cold rushing water. Heavy with silt, thick with rain. Katie contemplates new green on brown twig (salmonberry). Hello, Hot sauna. Ceaseless hissing from steam, dripping from heat. Cool off. Cedar umbrella in the green.

How can we not remember to stop -- and fire up the sauna -- on a wet soggy heavy-with-gray day. Like today.

Thank you to Ken, who leads the pack on how to stop and smell the flowers.

All work and no play makes Walker Creek a dull boy.

***** soggy photos from April not available ;) **** sauna and cedar bridge are from our winter 2010 gift of snow ***

Chickens in the Greenhouse?

Joe calls. I answer the phone. Instead of starting with "Hi" I say, "Chickens in the green house!??!"

He has no idea what I'm talking about. He thinks I'm merely being weirdly obtusely random. I am not. There are, indeed, chickens in the greenhouse. And I figured everyone knew why they were there but me. Turns out Joe has no idea either, about why there'd be chickens in the greenhouse and who put them there.

But he has a pretty good guess. It goes along the lines of T. or M., borrowed chickens, maybe to eat bugs. Ding ding ding ding! That's right! Miyabi borrowed four chickens from our neighbor Lenda, how funny is that. Can I borrow a cup of sugar, no wait, four chickens for a few days?

Last year, these pesky little pill bugs invaded our greenhouse soil - and ate way too many of our beautiful plant starts. All growing season long. Let's hear it for chickens in the greenhouse. May they have eaten their fill of those little pills.

PS It might be much more effective to show a photo with chickens actually in it. Ah well. Here's a glimpse of our winter greenhouse, post-chicken-slumber-party-pill-bug-buffet fest. Nary a pill bug in sight, right?!