Full Ground Hornet Moon
7-23-18
Greeting to all my friends and relatives,
Looks like I may make it after all! My leg is straight again, I'm walking well, taking the stairs, riding my bike. Sleep is disrupted by pain but that too shall pass. I'm not out of the woods yet, but I can see the edge of the trees and the opening beyond. I see the light, I see the light! Thanks for the prayers and concerns and good thoughts and wishes.
So I normally keep a journal with notes for this monthly monologue because I forget the details of my daily life. I guess the drugs kept me dull enough that I was not very regular about even this note taking task. This month's writing may be shorter than usual as a result, not that I do not love you or care, I just lack memory for the last 60 days.
P says that this is a good thing, that y'all probably get tired of reading all of my bunk...
This Full Ground Hornet Moon rises on Friday, July 27 at sunset, about 8pm. P and I will be newly landed in DC to visit the Foret family there. They live in Burke VA. So my sun set/moon rise will be an hour ahead of yours, nanny nanny poo poo, I'm ahead of you!
Oh, I called it the Full Ground Hornet Moon because I really stirred them up when on 7-22-18, I ran my lawn mower over their nest entrance. Luckily only two of these aggressive ground dwelling wasps stung me. Whew!
Margaret Simon has her first book of poetry out Bayou Song, Creative Explorations of the South Louisiana Landscape, illustrated by Anna Cantrell, photography by Henry Cancienne and available from Books Along the Teche our local New Iberia bookstore on Main Street, the one with a sleeping cat on the counter. This is one fine effort Margaret! Paula is really excited about placing and using it in her classroom.
I was listening to NPR the other day, go figger, anyway they interviewed song writer, musician, singer John Prine, an old friend, I mean I have never met him but I really like his music, especially Sam Stone from back in the day. He was among other things promoting his new album, The Tree of Forgiveness and fell in love with another of his songs, Boundless Love a treasure buried in that album. So sweet, a love song. I also discovered a new cocktail, the Handsome Johnny, Vodka and Ginger Ale that Prine was promoting as his own creation. Strange thing y'all, after two of those Handsome Johnny's I am so much better looking than before!
6-10-18 As I enter the approach of the Indest Street Bridge ( the same bridge we rescued our new kitten Indest from) when what to my wandering eyes do appear but a healthy, young, hungry Broad Winged Hawk (BWH) on a killer-attack flat-glide after launching from a copse of trees one side of the Bayou Teche, just clearing the hand rails of the bridge headed low into shrubs on the opposite side. So fine y'all!
ODE TO A HAWK
I watched the distant hawk above the trees
and marveled, as I always do,
to see the welcome of his self to wind,
his frailty against the blue,
the tautness of his wings before the sky,
the gleaming feathers in the sun;
the wholeness of his beauty in my world
left all the art of Earth undone.
And as I watched the wonder of his grace,
a motion caught his seeking eye:
he circled, tilted, closed his wings,
and dropped--a comet from the sky.
He plummeted among the shadowed trees,
and there within the leafy dark,
in silent ways he found his prey
and stopped the gentle singing of a lark.
John Julian
6-12-18 Big day, dedication of the Louisiana Wildflower Seed Bank facility at the UL Cade Experimental Farm. Politicians and bureaucrats spoke briefly, gratefully the 90 degree heat held them back from going on and on. I noticed the crowd gathering in the shade of the big Native Pecan Tree on site, smile. We are so quick to cut the Sacred Trees down and you can count on us stepping up under their shade on hot days, hmmmmm. It was a grand day for all who came. Mark Simon was in the spotlight as he should have been, he pushed and pulled this thing into existence, without his energy it would still be lumbering along, thanks Mark.
A big treat for me was the young woman who walked up to me to say hi, she said she was Amber Latiolais a former student, all grown up, married, two kids, running the Ag program at nearby Carencro High School. That she remembered me was quite a compliment and it brought back memories for me about how delightful she was to teach.
6-16-18 An old customer and good friend passed away in Charenton, down the bayou next to the Chitimacha Reservation. Cliff was an old Navy Seabee, building contractor turned hoopnet fisherman. He and Joland were married 63 years. See you on the flip side old friend!
On the way down the Bayou Teche I took the road less traveled, the scenic route, the "short cut", the across the bayou road and in the process passed many old familiar landmarks, the abandoned bar in Crapaudtown ( frog town) where I used to buy sacks of fresh oysters, dead man's curve where a friend was killed rolling his fancy sports car too fast through that tangled road, Bayside Plantation and at the end the Chitimacha Indian Reservation.
6-17-18 Father's Day! Ollie, Joe and I enjoyed Pot Roast, Rice and Gravy and an amazing 5 layer desert, with fresh Strawberries, Blueberries. I got fussed at for calling it "the last supper". Arrival time at the hospital is 530am tomorrow y'all and I'm only a bit nervous.
6-18-18 DONE! Up and walking by noon, errrr 2pm, who knows! They took my watch, because to quote John Prine, "what good is time once you've bought the farm"; but by sun time 12-2pm. Down the hall about 20 yds and back. Wow! Oh of course I used a walker. Pain meds are great, no pain and I'm all hyped up.
I'm slowly reading, The Forest Unseen, David George Haskell's the story of a guy spending a year visiting the same place in a wild area, as often as possible, all year long. He calls his study area of a 1 meter oval a mandala, a circle of land in old growth timber, a community. I would call it a Sit Spot after the teachings of Tom Brown, Jr. David is an ecologist, skilled observer with great understanding and a poet (get that David Lee). It is such a joy to read his words and to share in his understanding of the natural world. I recommend this wonderful book, in fact I love it so much it will be on the reading list for three of my classes this fall used in different way and for different reasons in the different classes depending on my goals for teaching these 20year olds in these classes.
7-3-18 Hotdogs (grass fed beef, organic and wholesome) apple pie with a scoop of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream on top, of course and the finest fireworks around at Sugar Mill Pond, Youngsville, with buds Renee and David. What a joy to be with them and the fireworks are always so exciting.
7-4-18 From my bud Charles Allen, his perennial warning "Remember that if you have a fifth on the forth, you may not go forth on the fifth" from a "Ploths" spam list mailout.
Sorry David the fireworks on the Mall in DC were slightly more over the top than ours in Youngsville but I have to admit that live beats my sad little TV hands down anyday.
7-8-18 Fried eggplant tonight, oh my, so good, the way God intended eggplant to be eaten. My smoking hot nurse has been giving me the best of care y'all.
7-14-18 Juvenile crow child has been whining and begging in our yard. He flies about and acts like an adult but is still begging food. All that noise frightens Indest, our young rescue kitten.
Oh my, Swallow Tail Kite over our patch of woods this afternoon, headed west looking for bloody tasty bird snacks, they never stay but occasionally I see them in mid-summer.
7-21-18 Mama MIKI in the Hackberry Tree on edge of Cajun Prairie patch in our yard is fussing and pushing a juvenile into launching, finally, after much whining and begging, full flight. So needy, so hungry! MIKI= Mississippi Kite
A new read arrived today in the mail, The Man Who Climbs Trees by James Aldred. The two quotes below from the dedication page.
"Never before had he been so suddenly and so keenly aware of the feel and texture of a tree's skin and of the life within it. He felt a delight in the wood and the touch of it, neither as forester nor as carpenter; it was the delight of the living tree itself. J.R.R. Tolkien,
Trees are poems that the Earth writes upon the sky. Kahlil Gibran, Sand and Foam
I'm so excited y'all, I cannot wait to start reading this book, sounds perfect for a true tree geek such as I, Ye Old Tree Warrior and former tree climber.
But first I'm nearly finished with Wendell Berry's The Memory of Old Jack and The Honey Trail by Grace Pundyk then I will allow myself to read the tree climbing book. I am so undisciplined I have to trick me or I will be reading 7 at one time.
John Julian is a priest-poet, 85 years old, contemplative monk, priest, and scholar. I found his newest book of poetry, EYES HAVE I THAT SEE on the new book shelve at the Iberia Parish Library, his Hawk poem is presented earlier in this post. How about another?
TO THE MATADOR
I burst to you;
I cried
the whole carousel
of bright day to you.
I brought the breath of earth,
the crushed grass,
the straw of summer to you.
I carried all the fields upon my back,
beneath my feet
into the dusty circle of the city.
I brought you all that I could of life.
And then they pierced,
they beat me.
I looked to you,
my gifts sweating away,
my eyes reddening.
Another stab
and the blindness of
your flash of red.
I followed through and through
and then your sword
I drank into my brain
and brought you my soul.
And they cried
for you,
"Ole!"
Hey David Lee, not bad for an 85 year old contemplative, the rest if his stuff I could not follow, as it is too deep and too spiritual for my simple gardener brain to process.
OK, gotta go y'all... full moon rises about 8 friday as the sun sets, catch the action, the thrill. Pile the kids and old people in the family station wagon and get out into the wonder of it all. y'all now I know i don't have to tell you but unplugged is best!
peace love and possum hugs
BT
Greeting to all my friends and relatives,
Looks like I may make it after all! My leg is straight again, I'm walking well, taking the stairs, riding my bike. Sleep is disrupted by pain but that too shall pass. I'm not out of the woods yet, but I can see the edge of the trees and the opening beyond. I see the light, I see the light! Thanks for the prayers and concerns and good thoughts and wishes.
So I normally keep a journal with notes for this monthly monologue because I forget the details of my daily life. I guess the drugs kept me dull enough that I was not very regular about even this note taking task. This month's writing may be shorter than usual as a result, not that I do not love you or care, I just lack memory for the last 60 days.
P says that this is a good thing, that y'all probably get tired of reading all of my bunk...
This Full Ground Hornet Moon rises on Friday, July 27 at sunset, about 8pm. P and I will be newly landed in DC to visit the Foret family there. They live in Burke VA. So my sun set/moon rise will be an hour ahead of yours, nanny nanny poo poo, I'm ahead of you!
Oh, I called it the Full Ground Hornet Moon because I really stirred them up when on 7-22-18, I ran my lawn mower over their nest entrance. Luckily only two of these aggressive ground dwelling wasps stung me. Whew!
Margaret Simon has her first book of poetry out Bayou Song, Creative Explorations of the South Louisiana Landscape, illustrated by Anna Cantrell, photography by Henry Cancienne and available from Books Along the Teche our local New Iberia bookstore on Main Street, the one with a sleeping cat on the counter. This is one fine effort Margaret! Paula is really excited about placing and using it in her classroom.
I was listening to NPR the other day, go figger, anyway they interviewed song writer, musician, singer John Prine, an old friend, I mean I have never met him but I really like his music, especially Sam Stone from back in the day. He was among other things promoting his new album, The Tree of Forgiveness and fell in love with another of his songs, Boundless Love a treasure buried in that album. So sweet, a love song. I also discovered a new cocktail, the Handsome Johnny, Vodka and Ginger Ale that Prine was promoting as his own creation. Strange thing y'all, after two of those Handsome Johnny's I am so much better looking than before!
6-10-18 As I enter the approach of the Indest Street Bridge ( the same bridge we rescued our new kitten Indest from) when what to my wandering eyes do appear but a healthy, young, hungry Broad Winged Hawk (BWH) on a killer-attack flat-glide after launching from a copse of trees one side of the Bayou Teche, just clearing the hand rails of the bridge headed low into shrubs on the opposite side. So fine y'all!
ODE TO A HAWK
I watched the distant hawk above the trees
and marveled, as I always do,
to see the welcome of his self to wind,
his frailty against the blue,
the tautness of his wings before the sky,
the gleaming feathers in the sun;
the wholeness of his beauty in my world
left all the art of Earth undone.
And as I watched the wonder of his grace,
a motion caught his seeking eye:
he circled, tilted, closed his wings,
and dropped--a comet from the sky.
He plummeted among the shadowed trees,
and there within the leafy dark,
in silent ways he found his prey
and stopped the gentle singing of a lark.
John Julian
6-12-18 Big day, dedication of the Louisiana Wildflower Seed Bank facility at the UL Cade Experimental Farm. Politicians and bureaucrats spoke briefly, gratefully the 90 degree heat held them back from going on and on. I noticed the crowd gathering in the shade of the big Native Pecan Tree on site, smile. We are so quick to cut the Sacred Trees down and you can count on us stepping up under their shade on hot days, hmmmmm. It was a grand day for all who came. Mark Simon was in the spotlight as he should have been, he pushed and pulled this thing into existence, without his energy it would still be lumbering along, thanks Mark.
A big treat for me was the young woman who walked up to me to say hi, she said she was Amber Latiolais a former student, all grown up, married, two kids, running the Ag program at nearby Carencro High School. That she remembered me was quite a compliment and it brought back memories for me about how delightful she was to teach.
6-16-18 An old customer and good friend passed away in Charenton, down the bayou next to the Chitimacha Reservation. Cliff was an old Navy Seabee, building contractor turned hoopnet fisherman. He and Joland were married 63 years. See you on the flip side old friend!
On the way down the Bayou Teche I took the road less traveled, the scenic route, the "short cut", the across the bayou road and in the process passed many old familiar landmarks, the abandoned bar in Crapaudtown ( frog town) where I used to buy sacks of fresh oysters, dead man's curve where a friend was killed rolling his fancy sports car too fast through that tangled road, Bayside Plantation and at the end the Chitimacha Indian Reservation.
6-17-18 Father's Day! Ollie, Joe and I enjoyed Pot Roast, Rice and Gravy and an amazing 5 layer desert, with fresh Strawberries, Blueberries. I got fussed at for calling it "the last supper". Arrival time at the hospital is 530am tomorrow y'all and I'm only a bit nervous.
6-18-18 DONE! Up and walking by noon, errrr 2pm, who knows! They took my watch, because to quote John Prine, "what good is time once you've bought the farm"; but by sun time 12-2pm. Down the hall about 20 yds and back. Wow! Oh of course I used a walker. Pain meds are great, no pain and I'm all hyped up.
I'm slowly reading, The Forest Unseen, David George Haskell's the story of a guy spending a year visiting the same place in a wild area, as often as possible, all year long. He calls his study area of a 1 meter oval a mandala, a circle of land in old growth timber, a community. I would call it a Sit Spot after the teachings of Tom Brown, Jr. David is an ecologist, skilled observer with great understanding and a poet (get that David Lee). It is such a joy to read his words and to share in his understanding of the natural world. I recommend this wonderful book, in fact I love it so much it will be on the reading list for three of my classes this fall used in different way and for different reasons in the different classes depending on my goals for teaching these 20year olds in these classes.
7-3-18 Hotdogs (grass fed beef, organic and wholesome) apple pie with a scoop of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream on top, of course and the finest fireworks around at Sugar Mill Pond, Youngsville, with buds Renee and David. What a joy to be with them and the fireworks are always so exciting.
7-4-18 From my bud Charles Allen, his perennial warning "Remember that if you have a fifth on the forth, you may not go forth on the fifth" from a "Ploths" spam list mailout.
Sorry David the fireworks on the Mall in DC were slightly more over the top than ours in Youngsville but I have to admit that live beats my sad little TV hands down anyday.
7-8-18 Fried eggplant tonight, oh my, so good, the way God intended eggplant to be eaten. My smoking hot nurse has been giving me the best of care y'all.
7-14-18 Juvenile crow child has been whining and begging in our yard. He flies about and acts like an adult but is still begging food. All that noise frightens Indest, our young rescue kitten.
Oh my, Swallow Tail Kite over our patch of woods this afternoon, headed west looking for bloody tasty bird snacks, they never stay but occasionally I see them in mid-summer.
7-21-18 Mama MIKI in the Hackberry Tree on edge of Cajun Prairie patch in our yard is fussing and pushing a juvenile into launching, finally, after much whining and begging, full flight. So needy, so hungry! MIKI= Mississippi Kite
A new read arrived today in the mail, The Man Who Climbs Trees by James Aldred. The two quotes below from the dedication page.
"Never before had he been so suddenly and so keenly aware of the feel and texture of a tree's skin and of the life within it. He felt a delight in the wood and the touch of it, neither as forester nor as carpenter; it was the delight of the living tree itself. J.R.R. Tolkien,
Trees are poems that the Earth writes upon the sky. Kahlil Gibran, Sand and Foam
I'm so excited y'all, I cannot wait to start reading this book, sounds perfect for a true tree geek such as I, Ye Old Tree Warrior and former tree climber.
But first I'm nearly finished with Wendell Berry's The Memory of Old Jack and The Honey Trail by Grace Pundyk then I will allow myself to read the tree climbing book. I am so undisciplined I have to trick me or I will be reading 7 at one time.
John Julian is a priest-poet, 85 years old, contemplative monk, priest, and scholar. I found his newest book of poetry, EYES HAVE I THAT SEE on the new book shelve at the Iberia Parish Library, his Hawk poem is presented earlier in this post. How about another?
TO THE MATADOR
I burst to you;
I cried
the whole carousel
of bright day to you.
I brought the breath of earth,
the crushed grass,
the straw of summer to you.
I carried all the fields upon my back,
beneath my feet
into the dusty circle of the city.
I brought you all that I could of life.
And then they pierced,
they beat me.
I looked to you,
my gifts sweating away,
my eyes reddening.
Another stab
and the blindness of
your flash of red.
I followed through and through
and then your sword
I drank into my brain
and brought you my soul.
And they cried
for you,
"Ole!"
Hey David Lee, not bad for an 85 year old contemplative, the rest if his stuff I could not follow, as it is too deep and too spiritual for my simple gardener brain to process.
OK, gotta go y'all... full moon rises about 8 friday as the sun sets, catch the action, the thrill. Pile the kids and old people in the family station wagon and get out into the wonder of it all. y'all now I know i don't have to tell you but unplugged is best!
peace love and possum hugs
BT
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