Blogger, Meet Jacob, Jacob, Say Hi to the Blog.

Not too long ago, we came back from Birding by the Bay, and found a large bag of what looked to be (from the outside) pig chow leaning against our front door. Since we're what passes for an urban center in a rural county, sometimes we do get gifts from the farmland, but we certainly didn't need pig chow. When I peeked inside, this (up there above the text) is what I saw. When I figured out who had left it, I was told that it was a lamb's wool. Comparing it with some of the wool I had led me to believe it was Jacob. Not that I'm brilliant in wool identification, just that I held a lock of the Jacob I got from my good friend Elaine up and compared it to these locks, and they were the same shape, crimp, and length, although this, being lamb's wool, was a bit softer and finer.

So, you savvy wool folks, take a look. Does this look like Jacob lamb's wool to you? The staple length is pretty short, the fiber is fine and soft, and it is currently being washed in batches and carded with my smallest hand cards. This stuff is too short for the combs, but it looks like it will spin up to something wonderful. The blue cast you see above the fiber is the reflection of the sun through the pig chow bag.

Whatever it is, I am looking forward to the spinning.

What the Garden Says These Days

Playing in the garden.

Right now the garden is chaotic, as the bricks from the quake are still stacked and covered with weathering plastic tarp. That doesn't stop the beauty from coming through, though. Beauty and joy seem unstoppable, no matter what the circumstances. Here you see some volunteers creeping over the bricks to make shadow puppets and challene the orange in the bricks with an orange that is vibrant and alive.

As goes the garden, as goes the world.

That thought reminds me of a film, Being There, Peter Sellers spoke of the garden, and people took it as a metaphor. So let's do that, the garden as a metaphor. Today my garden is in chaos, but it's a lovely chaos. Lovely because life is lovely. Oh, some people don't see it that way, it's true. There's bitterness and anger among the rich, and among the rest of us as well.

Like Chance, I like to work in the garden, and I like the garden to work on me. I like to play in the garden, and enjoy its playful way with me. Here are the orange flowers making puppets on the remnant of a disaster. These puppets dance in the wind, and make shadows that remind us of their vitality.

Atop the disaster, on a field of blue, there's a little fluttering hope. Common and patient it is, not a Hummer of triumph driving through old town, just a little white flutter. We'll watch it and see where it takes us, what do you say?