This is one of my rambles ... take it in doses, or have a nice cuppa your favorite whatever and dive in.
Pete and I left the Prairie Front early Saturday morning in our trustworthy Subaru, 'Scout', and boarded the first of three ferries. The 7:30 am Clinton ferry crossed the Salish Sea for Mukilteo. I think it's so important to record the appreciation I have for these ships -- the Washington State Ferries. This one in particular, maybe because we board them and ride them regularly and because it makes so many trips in a given day (37 thirty- minute trips). It's no small expense to take a ferry ride, but not so much that we can't afford it on our golden wagon-smaller-than-a-tiny home monthly abundance.
Monthly abundance sounds more fun than 'budget'. Anyway, the point being?
The point being, we spend a lot of our retirement/S.S. checks on food and flexibility (day tripping:)-- and ferry riding-- is right in there with organic veggies, organic dried herbs for infusions, organic chicken thighs, and Lopez Island Vanilla Ice Cream.
The photo above was taken from the second fairy, whoops, it was a ferry(though they can feel like being with the magical ones) we rode while I took that shot. Once we landed in Mukilteo I drove down the highway and freeway south to Edmonds where we waited, then boarded a ship bound for Kingston on the Kitsap Peninsula. While we waited in the holding area in Edmonds a large stand of fully-fluffed Cattails kept us company. Beautiful. So bountiful is the Cattail to those who know how many ways she gifts us. Someday I hope to gather and use some of Cattail's gifts. For now, it's enough for me to appreciate. It has been nearly ten years since we were on an Edmonds-Kingston ferry, and as I ride it memories of times long past as well as those more recently lived road along with me. Many believe time -- the past, present and future -- is lived all at once. It felt that way to me.
I took the photo above because a freighter was moving across the major shipping lanes as our ferry captain honked the horn on the vessel. Two leisure crafts veered around us when the captain sounded intent and fair warning ... "We're coming through." I watched as the two yachts turned portside (I think, that's to their left) and made way for the us.
Pete and I made note of those letters M A T S O N. MATSON is one of the major players when it comes to shipping stuff between Washington and Hawaii. When we were thinking, "Safe passage home to Hawaii" it was MATSON who would've done the shipping of our vardo, and our Subaru. But, that ship sailed without us.
Back in July I was working on this drawing. In it a woman wearing a tip of cedar over her breast wears her past and her present. Pele flows in her molten state to the woman's left. A mask covers the face of a woman lying prone, behind her is a puolo, a bundled gift, wrapped in la'i, Hawaiian ti leaves. The words of the 'oli
Na 'Aumakua rise from the woman asking her Ancestors for permission, knowledge, strength, wisdom, insight, as it related to our desire to return to Hawaii. It would have been to Hawaii Island that we hoped to go; where Pele is busy making new land now.
I entitled the drawing, "Asking." The answer we got was 'No.' We were blessed. We are grateful for the guidance of our Ancestors, and grateful for the bounty of this Salish Sea and its people where we
do live.
Our Saturday destination required driving from Kingston to Port Townsend where we were headed for yet another Farmers' Market. Ironically I did NOT take any photos of the market that was teeming with activity in the Old Town section of Port Townsend.
We chose this Saturday to make this trip because of the wind. Pete checked for a pattern of winds. With a clear sky, a Northerly or Northwesterly wind prevails and that means the smoke from the paper mill(s) blows away from town. This is a good thing, especially for me with my sensitivity to sulphur and smoke. Our hours there were enjoyable and gentle on the sulphur.
~*~
Sunday was Mothers' Day. We stayed put, recouping from our many-phased Saturday of water and road travel. Two of things that challenge me physically were very present on Saturday: Scotch Broom in bloom and Round-up. The yellow blooms, wildly out of control in Western Washington were everywhere. I try a different approach with their pollen, and ask for the grace and flexibility (and a year of Nourishing Herbal Infusions) to accept they are present and so am I. The out-of-control use of Round-up is tamed here. On the Prairie Front there is no Round-up. Except for minimal use on the County Roads, the telltale signs of dead grass along the highways is not something we live with in South Whidbey.
Recouping from exposure to Round-up triggered old episodes. Lots of rest, and letting go are part of the healing process. It fits with the present conditions of the Hawaiian Moon Cycle. Today/tonight is Muku the last night of the Hawaiian month, and according to my kilo kumu (teacher of observations Hawaiian style) Kalei Nu'uhiwa, Muku is a good time to complete a project, cut off a bad relationship, quit a job. Nu'uhiwa continues, "Muku is an excellent night for you future kahuna kilo to learn new in and out skills ..." What can she mean by that? Cut out the bad sh*t and accept what I cannot change is one option. Gratitude is the other part of the process. Real people, including the community of South Whidbey Tilth were involved in negotiating this 'modified' use of Round-up where we live. It's a major reason we live here; great time to be grateful for what we've got.
Our friend Austin uses his old VW Van as his pallet. How cool is that!
Angie Hart and her partner Ben had a display for the 'Taste of the Week' at the South Whidbey Tilth Farmers' Market. Sprouts in various stages of sprouting with information, samples and recipes. The sprouted garbanzo hummus was delish eaten on a thin slice of radish. The recipe for the hummus in above.
Anza Menchow of
Maha Farms with visitors and customers shopping for veggie starts.
Pete with a tray of collard starts he bought from new grower at the Tilth David Prisbey of the Old School Market Farm.
This is barefoot weather, and that's just fine with me. It's great to keep my promise to my feet, who have waited all winter long for these conditions. I was on my way to visit the other 24/7 residents on the Prairie Front. The Chicklets (my name for them).
This is a bountiful life. No guarantees about the way forward, but there's a line from Charles de Lint's latest novel,
The Wind in His Heart that I'm hoping to live a little more ever day. It's from the last bit of the story set in a mythic Southwestern American town. The line is this, "to be a better person, do better things." Good reminder for me.
Mahalo nui!