Last week, another three nights below freezing and lots of scrambling to keep plants alive. Straw. No longer available. Anywhere, in this town. Something about last years weather. But maybe–they say–maybe in a month–maybe there will be a first cutting from some place. Maybe we can get more. Right now it’s as precious as water.
It’s been very cool and rainy and I just finished slug patrol–they–the slugs–are doing just fine. Fat and plump and merrily grazing.
There have been teaser days–days when spring seemed settled in. Days when boy and dog–park bound, paused just long enough for this–
Days when finding tossing sticks revealed the sublime beauty of maybe my favorite flowers: 
and then, because Asheville has a leash law, we, my friend and I, settled for watching from a distance. 
She could not be distracted. Was vigilant. Without motion. Would hardly blink. Much later when she caught sight of her person returning, she looked at me and smiled. Yep. She smiled. Heading for the front door of the house she shares with her people.
And I need to record for myself the progress that Juno is making. Because it would be easy to become discouraged. I need the pictures to show me how she looked before. When she was really tense. When resting was not something she could do. When adrenaline fueled her every movement. Here, downward dogging at home, with other people and other dogs wandering about:
and she came to the chair where I sat, touched base in a way, then scurried off. 
Hope is a wonderful help mate. Hope is full of confidence…and I’m so hoping she’ll help Juno find her own strength.
Because still Juno does not want to be handled Will not voluntarily come for touch. I read up on the breed. She’s a Tibetan Spaniel. Bred 2,500 years ago to be companions for the monks and lamas in the Himalayas. Slept with their person to help keep them warm. Were trained to spin prayer wheels. What I read stressed the importance of early bonding with people. The importance of socialization right out of the gate. Juno did not receive that–and how that could be, I cannot imagine.
So…there have been a few stitched added to “The Last Moon of Winter.” And slowly she’s coming into herself.
And some cloth–a nubby silk from Dharma–wrapped with rebar wire and soaked in onion skins. 
…and these three squares thrill me. Echo some deep rhythm from beyond now…
following thread 
Juno and Hope, your garden, the delicious spring violets, the boy and his dog and of course, your clothes are all coming right along – all is right with the world for this moment!
love,
ee
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for this moment…yes. there’s nothing else is there. love you, ee.
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Lhasa Apso? my daughter and then granddaughter had one….LuLu, nickname Louie….
she lived to be a very very old dog. had a mind of her own. was very self directed.
Whatever her experience with you…a beauty FULL life, the outcome of her painful beginning….
you read my mind….a couple of days ago, before the Typepad blow out, (and again this
morning it’s down) i was going to ask on the blog for anyone who might see Violets….
please Tell. Violets, magical beings of the woodlands. as a child, i used to talk to them.
they listen well.
…..the child, his cap……
the Cloth. yes. finishing It’s Self….
Love to you….
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A little smaller than the Lhasa Apso and hair is much shorter. but similar temperaments. I just looked up more info. Tibetan Spaniels can be “cat like” which explains a lot.
and violets–the most magical of all spring gifts–and they do listen well. i’ll try to get you a more focused pic
isn’t that cap funny. John Deere and it always goes cockeyed on his head immediately. he reminds me of one of the. bad news bears gang. and the cloth–very different in person. i’m going to fiinish her today i .swear. love you
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No straw up in Pennsylvania either. How weird is THAT, to reach for a silly bale and there be none.
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some thing to Know….reaching for that “silly” bale and there be none…
something to really Know.
how it is
not so silly
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actually, it speaks volumes about climate shifts and resources and the need to re-think how we do things and how we will be able to continue. quite startling actually. the sudden awareness of doing without something so seemingly commonplace as straw. and suddenly–maybe not so sudden actually–here it is. strange and dire future based predictions manifesting right here, right now. and yes, this is just one isolated example of the repercussions of “progress.”
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The stories of Hope and Juno make me want to cry. The abuse and the recovery and your loving patience. And I’m loving this large rebar cloth. The branch and feather-like shapes…
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you would be happy to see these two little — don’t know what to call them–critters, dogs (so non-capturing of who they are), persons, beings?–yes…you would be happy to see these two little beings. Hope is healing quickly, Juno at a slower rate, but healing just the same. it’s kinda like watching a garden grow. for a long time nothing seems to happen and then one morning–growth.
this morning i rolled over and saw Juno curled up in a circle on the bare floor, right next to my head. she had a choice of well outfitted boxes and crates but she chose the hard floor. of course, as soon as she noticed me noticing her, she was out of there in a flash.
and Beth–it makes me happy that you like the rebar cloth. there’s something about it that feels really, really authentic.
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Recipe for spring: a darling boy, shirt color sky, standing strong, slight grin, cap askew as if wind had kissed the top of his head, dog nearby, making a statement of himself-
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so–for some reason your remark helps me see that cloth and fiber and thread can also refer to dna and sinew and layer upon layer of ancestral fiber–of which my thread is just an infinitesimal strand. still, this boy, my favorite cloth of all time.
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