My animal spirits

This is hitting me upside the head - this morning's dream first (which I'll give a few details later).
But in chronological order, then I've seen several blogs, which I chose at a whim to look at, and the messages all kept saying, your wild self...the animals are calling you to acknowledge that you also are animal. That you are sister to animals.

Then this wonderful video of the silkies...and the music, the story, and actually swimming with the seals of Ireland.  I cried.

I don't know where this is leading.  There's a call to be out in the wild (which I subscribe to with awareness of my "abilities")  There is also a "klunk" kind of ah ha...I have purpose here. These strong emotions draw me to do something special.  Is it art? Maybe.  Is it inner growth? Maybe.  Is it anything that makes sense? Just about like silkies do.

So the dream is triggered by my connection to my cats, who've been pets, who've all gone before me, having their deaths as my responsibility, having their care for many years of my life, and having the joy of their sweet warm furry bodies cuddled with mine.

I suddenly hear them thumping down on the floor in the next room - about once a day. (Of course my scientific mind says it's the neighbors) Then I feel the bed have a creak as one jumps up to be near me.  And I have ghosts of them out of the corner of my eyes all the time, just disappearing around a corner, or walking by somehow.  And today I kept having one sitting by a door patiently wanting me to open it.  Never to go "out" because that wasn't part of their lives.  But those awful doors were closed and little claws and paws just couldn't get them into the next room...where something wonderful awaited.  Curiosity.  Ah. Such a shared emotion.  Patience, sometimes also shared.

What is the meaning?
To help those waiting to go through doors...the barriers of our lives.
At least that was my ah ha this morning.
And to open the doors.  It's simple. But sometimes so scary for me.  I don't think the cat was afraid.  She always just waited patiently and then knew (with a mew or two) that her servant would comply.

Mountains above the clouds

After doing afternoon volunteer work at the Red House, where I met many visitors on this rainy day, I then took off for home.  I had a lovely time as a volunteer, and though I'd brought my laptop to do some photo editing, I didn't have much chance to do that...mainly was talking to visitors!

It had stopped raining, for a while at least.  At the bottom of Black Mountain St, there's been a construction trailer for a couple of years, just over a bridge over one of the tributaries of the Swannanoa River.  But what caught my eye was the top of a mountain above the clouds.  Of course this is known as fog for those still on the ground.

As I turned around, I looked at the Black Mountain Stove building.  They had a fire here last year, which only destroyed a bit of the building.  They may have resumed business right afterward, and are continuing to complete their building, but it still doesn't inspire a new customer, in my opinion.

 The building in the distance right next to the on-ramp to the interstate, is the Hampton Inn which has been under construction for over a year.

 Another view of mountaintops over foggy clouds...behind Ingles grocery on Hwy. 9.

My last view of the mountains above clouds was along Blue Ridge Rd. about where the Interstate goes over it. 

The Walker Sisters vs. Smoky Mountains National Park

Forgotten Appalachian Memories

The seven Walker Sisters - Margaret, Polly, Martha, Nancy, Louisa, Sarah Caroline, and Hettie - spent their entire lives in a cabin in Little Greenbrier Cove that was built by their grandfather in the 1840s.

The cabin was obtained by their father, John Walker, after he returned to the area after fighting for the Union in the Civil War. John and his wife Margaret had eleven children: seven daughters and four sons!

When John Walker died in 1921, the property was left to his unmarried daughters. Without any men around, the Walker Sisters assumed all of the responsibilities on the farm and so for the next 40+ years, the sisters raised livestock, grew vegetables, and made their own clothes.

The National Park Moves In…

Although Nancy died in 1931, the five remaining Walker Sisters were still going strong when the Great Smoky Mountains National Park was officially dedicated in 1940. While most locals moved away after the creation of the park, the Walker Sisters refused to give up their family farm. Eventually, a deal was struck in which the sisters received $4,750 for their land and permission to continue living in their cabin for the rest of their lives.

With the establishment of the national park came a host of new restrictions. The Walker Sisters weren’t allowed to hunt, fish, cut wood, or graze livestock. To compensate, the sisters became quasi-ambassadors for the national park. When visitors came to Little Greenbrier, they would say hello and sell their handmade products, such as fried apple pies, crocheted doilies, and children’s toys. Louisa even wrote poems that were available for purchase!

The Old Ways are the Best Ways

Why did the Walker Sisters insist on living like they were still in the 19th century? For the sisters, if the old ways were good enough for their father and grandfather, it's good enough for them. The sisters put it best themselves when they said, “Our land produces everything we need except sugar, soda, coffee, and salt.”

Polly Walker passed away in 1946, with Hettie following her the next year. When Martha died in 1951, the two remaining sisters asked the National Park Service to take down the “Visitors Welcome” sign at their cabin, because they were simply too old to do all of their chores and entertain tourists as well. Margaret died in 1962 at the age of 92, and Louisa lived in the house until she passed in 1964. Sarah Caroline, the only sister who got married and moved away, died in 1966.

The Walker Sisters may be gone, but their historic cabin is still standing in the national park. The Walker Sisters Place is located along the Metcalf Bottoms Trail. To get to the homestead, first take the 0.7 mile hike from Metcalf Bottoms to the Little Greenbrier School, which was built by John Walker. Then, continue on the trail for 0.6 mile, where the path crosses over a footbridge. After 1.1 miles, hikers will reach the 0.2 mile side trail that leads to the Walker Sisters Place.

Source:

Forgotten Appalachian Memories on FaceBook Feb 18, 2019

Sharing with Sepia Saturday this week.

Where I've been lately

 Like the Witty cemetery...a tangle of growth and not at all cared for by the descendants?

Well just a bit, but I'm caring for myself still, and doing much better .  I have however been focused on ancient people who are long gone...though their genes still swim along in my blood.

I look to see if he fought in the Revolutionary War if he was between 15 or 50 in the 1770s.  I question those who were born in the 60s...but perhaps they were still serving in the 1780s.

So I've been blogging about ancestors lately.  Not much working on clay.  I've had a respite from my first love (sculpting) but my brain is full of ideas that want to be modeled.  I have another week of my month off from studio work.  The side effect may well be that my lungs are healing.  If that is the case, I'll be the potter who's wearing a mask at the studio.

When talking with my son on the phone last night, he mentioned I wasn't coughing (like I usually do every few minutes.) We both were thrilled and also a bit skeptical...would this last, could we even talk about it before it came back through some kind of psycho-trigger? Nope, it lasted, even into the evening, when I usually am conscious that I probably disturb my neighbors with my loud hacking.  Ah, a peaceful evening and night.  And I woke up energized this morning.

The other result of working with those ancestors is that they kind of get into my bones...I keep thinking of them as I go about the day, and I feel sad about some of the things that happened to them.  I must distance myself from that emotion, because after all, they all have died.  I pray they didn't suffer.  I must not be sad that many died as children either.  I must let them be in those graves and celebrate that they were born, that some woman labored to give them life...and she was mother to myself as well.

There I am in the foreground at the Cleveland County Arts Council opening of "Treasures of The Earth" show...in which I actually have pottery.  I just picked up the pieces from the Black Mountain Center for the Arts gallery.  And I had a couple of small pieces at the Swannanoa Valley Fine Arts League show, "Passions of Art."  I've never been in 3 galleries at the same time before.  It takes my breath away.

I don't think I have any "vintage" photos to contribute to Sepia Saturday, so am having to post less over there.  I've enjoyed sharing my own older photos from my life, as well as a bit of my collection from older times.  But I'm not exactly a vintage photo collector like some of the sepians are.  I'll see if there's something that meets their criteria as they post the memes for each week.

So I hope to hear/read other's blogs and enjoy the sharings that they've taken time to post. And I'll be here on one of the 4 blogs almost daily if there's anything to add.

Walking around window shopping

One of my favorite activities, whether in a mall or along a street.

 In good weather, you can find a moose sitting outside the door of this fun store in Black Mountain NC.

Cherry Street Kids was a location for many gifts for grandchildren...until they became teens and young adults!

Lincoln Nebraska, 1942...groceries or coffee to the far right?

When my shopping walk is over, this is a favorite place to stop and drink some coffee...and my choice is usually an espresso called an Americano.

And what's on the other side of those windows? Well well well.  Here's some of my pottery for sale at The Depot Gallery here by the tracks.  I dare say there's a bit of a rattle to it when a train goes by!

Sharing with Sepia Saturday this week Here.

Eye exam

So my annual eye exam was yesterday.

Usually this is a breeze, but there was some concern about my right eye.  It continues to not test into the 20-20 range.  It's about 20-25 according to Dr. Smith.  I really wish it would behave.  I came in with 4 concerns, and most of them couldn't be solved by new glasses.

First my present frames don't have a nose-bud setup, so they sit right on my nose.  I didn't know that would be a problem, but it means they also sit on my cheeks when I'm lying down. I only lie down to read before going to sleep, but inevitably my cheeks leave some skin oil on the glasses, and that means cleaning them off several times when I'm trying to get sleepy.  So to solve that, I'm going back to my previous frames with nose-buds.

Next was my peripheral vision problem, which I've blamed on the glasses.  Not so, said Dr. Smith. I've got droopy eyelids, and they are worse on the right eye.  Well, yesterday I was surprised to see how much droop I had.  I hadn't noticed in my latest photo at all. But that's cause my eyes are crinkled up with a smile.  So I took a selfie while waiting for my eyes to dilate at the optometrist's office.  Dr. Smith said they weren't bad enough to need surgery, but sometime down the line I might consider that.

Last week smiling.

 This week checking my eyelid droop.

Later at the auto parts place when I got new wiper blades (raining) I tried raising my eyebrows.  Doesn't help much.  But my pupils are still dilated!

Anyway, there were a couple of other problems, which I forgot by the end of the exam when she said my glaucoma test showed a raised pressure level in the right eye.  Poor right eye, at least it still works.

But the reason I'm giving all this information (I know, who really cares) is that I'm approaching a time of having problems due to cataracts growing slowly, but they aren't yet operable.  So I'll continue to have night vision problems (and can't read the Jeopardy questions without their having halos around the letters on TV) until they reach a stage where they are really bad, and thus can have surgery.

Same with the glaucoma pressure.  I need to be monitored more often than once a year, so am going back in 6 months.  But it's not enough to do anything else about, yet.

This body will be almost 77 when I go back in August.

I'm so glad it still walks around ok, though my knees frequently go ouch when going down the porch steps.  I haven't fallen in years (knock on wood!)  If it weren't for frequently coughing till I gasp for breath, I'd say I'm doing fine.  I think I'll say that anyway.  I know there are women my age who could run circles around me. And there are some who are having more problems.  So I'm grateful for the condition my condition is in.

Monk's Blend

Last year my son Russ gave me "Loose Tea of the Month."  I received a package of 3 bags of different loose teas each month.  This is one of my favorites...Monk's Blend.

I like it because its scent is flowery, and it is pretty light. I just put a spoonful of honey in it.

Orchid joy

 Just lookie lookie...those buds have almost all opened.  A couple shriveled up, but most of them are flowers now.  I wonder if that last one will...

I do love flowering plants, but the miracles they give of beauty, watching the changes...it's as much the process as the final outcome!

Here's the photo I've had as my header for a few weeks...shows the potential buds before they opened.

This week I'm a potter (sort of)

Potters make things.
A "sort of" potter has to sell things.  Actually I'm considered a "hobby potter."

I still have to get rid of what I've made.

All my relatives and friends have their shares already. Unfortunately they got things when I was still just returning to clay, so now they politely say no, and they may have even thrown out the heavy mugs, plates and bowls (and oh the soap dishes!) that I gave them.  I have gotten a bit better over the 12 years I've been retired from salaried work and doing a few hours a day in clay. (Incidentally, as I dust occasionally, wearing a mask to keep from inhaling it, I usually throw out one or more pieces of old pottery.)

So this week I'm working on packing up pots, writing tags (my handwriting is terrible these days) and listing an inventory (which at least can be on a computer.)  Then each piece finds a snug place in bubble wrap in a tupperware tub.  Then I cart (literally on a cart) it to my car and lift it inside.

And tomorrow I truck on down the road with my friend potter, Cathy, and we go to Shelby NC.  I went with her (as customers, not showing) to another pottery show last December.  We looked at what was for sale, shook our heads at some of the amateurish wares and prices, and had gaping mouths at the beautiful things that were also on display.  I may not be a pro, but I have learned what "the market" is like after my years of going to various sales venues.

We actually both decided not to try to go to that market, even though it's indoors and at the peak of the sales season for Christmas.  When a show is not juried, there may be lots of range of abilities displayed.  This one we're going to this week is also not juried. But I was invited last year, and now they're also inviting Cathy.  Her web site must have given them enough information they thought she'd be competitive with the other artists.

Having done a craft fair at the middle school here last December, I have decided that the "art" of arts and crafts, is the side I'm going for.  It's a bit steeper to identify as an artist, but at least there won't be competition from so many other hobbyists. That's why I've rejoined the Red House (Swannanoa Valley Fine Arts League).

And I also made the choice several years ago to no longer do outdoor shows.  My bod is at it's 77th year, and just doesn't like the setting up and taking down aspects of tents and tubs of pots and tables.

Anyway, I'm 2/3 of the way finished pricing and packing.   I need to disassemble the shelving unit and then pack them all into the car by the time I meet Cathy tomorrow afternoon and pack her tubs and shelving into the car, and we drive the hour and a quarter to Shelby.  That sounds doable!

Imbolc ritual fun

My friends met this afternoon (Sun Feb 3) to celebrate Imbolc, Brigit, and the return of light.

Maggie led us in a dance, and I asked everyone if I could take photos.  I don't usually during a ritual, because it's kind of a sacred thing.  But I waited till after the dance was done, and asked the participants if they'd show me some of the fun movements.

Yes, we were singing a bit of Irish poetry, "May the road rise up to greet you..." though I messed up the words many different ways.

 Dolls that we brought lay around the little table for our altar in honor of Brigit.

 Our altar was central in a circle of women, including a bowl of pure water and lots of stones.

My little figure of Brigit stood on the altar also.

We all got to help make the whipped cream for the bannock cake.  Oh it was so delicious!

Then the women made their own Brigit dolls.  What a great afternoon. Did I mention singing? Eating? sharing good wishes? blessing the mantle of Brigit?  I did leave a bit early, since my cough was kind of making me tired.

Thanks to the Unitarian Universaist Congregation of the Swannanoa Valley for hostessing this ritual afternoon for Inanna's Daughters.  Thanks to the leadership of all the women who came, and especially Linda Metzner!

The light of Imbolc

Brigid, bright and firey one.

Here's a great little song about -
Don't be afraid of the light that shines within you

Luka Bloom 2008

Shared on another blog, Here.