9th March, 2019 Saturday
33 degrees and the forecast looks for 40’s late this week. We watched chunks of roof snow fall past our living room window last night. The thaw is coming. Spots of emerald are patchworking the white rug across our yard. Paws have etched the patterns of their play.
My big dread is the day the snow is gone and all the poo in that monthlong layering of frozen needs to be expunged. I think I’ll need a shovel. Wish me luck.
Its gray today. I woke to Wizard and the Duckles wedged as usual in the middle bed. Its brighter these days. The sun sits higher and as it slips each day to sit where it can reach the ground direct, I feel the stirrings of sweet earth as tendriled life disturbs its sleep. Be a bit yet before the burst. Its coming. I do feel it.
Yesterday some news came through, a Beloved Deerie born on the farm six months after Lady Dragon was has passed suddenly from sever complications from an undiagnosed case of Lyme disease. Over the last three or four years my screen had been peppered with images of her play dates in a yard in LA, a glorious gathering of sighthounds and their beloved humans. Her news struck my heart as if she were one of my own. She was an example of the finest qualities of the breed inside and out. Her sudden passing was felt globally. The embrace of her humans threaded all through yesterday as my eyes filled, drained, and emptied. I am hugging my two DH Angels, Lady Dragon and her Noble Continent, more preciously as the fragile veil of accident comes present in my heart. Farewell, Eroica.
I love the Deerie community. There are so few we, their humans, can now broadcast their exploits, be it show ribbons or rompings or arguments about proper Deerhounds, across the World now thanks to the internet. I understand the many complaints about Facebook. I go mute in those slamming conversations. For me there have been several life altering exchanges for the better that have come to me because of this social platform. The greater Deerie Community is but one.
We all carry stories from before. Some remember, some ignore, some our bodies carry forth and signal details we must endure or cure. Its not so simple why we feel. Some need to know and I am one of those.
So these days I look for those wierd clues. Charts are speaking out these days. Today the sky tells of the things we hide must come out. Its our job. Its a time to clean the house. I am reading transits here. They play the keys of possibility not fate. We choose a tune. How we play it is up to us.
Whether Trump’s or Brexit’s or Putin’s fault, Pandora’s Box of little monsters havocs us. What we choose now is up to us but make no mistake, its time to clean it up. If we don’t, shit’s gonna get deep.
Dogs are begging for their meat. I must be off.
Tea Sencha Green today. That must be it.
Ta.
Tea With Me 