Tiny maple tree. I hold my hand to thee. From the sky you fall. And make your home here with us, all.

This spring as the ground warmed, small-ish trees appeared again. Many made our garden home. Ask anyone, I'd plant a billion trees if I could. We'll have to settle for three. My dear husband planted our tiny trees for us, one for each of our beautiful children. Love trees, all things. ♥

calling

"I've come here to this place to speak truths. Because, we vigil for a great war; a war many of us rarely know we are fighting.
It's the front lines, here, in our souls; our hearts. And it is apparent, every time you look to a face and see a person as your fellow human, your twin warrior...without the notice of color, the query of legality, the question of nationality, or the examination of sexuality. You fight this war with every awkward glance to your exposed nursing breast. It is apparent, with every carefully researched cloth diaper you lovingly diaper your baby with and every orange-like-the-sun yolked farm-raised egg you fry; you are on the front lines.
Here, amidst a seemingly lovely community, we are close enough to freedom to choose our own choices. We are still free enough here to make the difference and initiate the revolution.
Our time is significant. Our days and years are numbered. The freedoms will dissipate one by one.
So, I call on you today, to promote peace, yes, and to be intolerant of hatreds. I call on you to remain protectors of our lovely planet and remain conscience and responsible parents to our future. But more, I call on you to become active. I call on you to organize. I call on you to initiate. You must be RADICAL! The time to live in comfort has passed us, and with that passing we have been left with a crumbling world, a revolting planet, corrupted governments, and a society blinded.

fight song

You don't suppose we'll find peace.
You dream at night that this war will never cease.
Don't you let your hope die out please.

The sun flies through the trees.
Your tears give you away.
On this bright day, bright day.

Across the ocean there's a dying man,
cradling a gun in his hand.

And he looks like you, but he's not what we're supposed to be.

Dream song

The tears will flow.
The rivers will bend...
The breaking arrow of the crashing bow
Sure as your love flutters to an end.

The thrashing bright
A killers knife
the waning, waxing in the night.
Shadows shiver
body quivers
Rising sun
death to shadows of moonlight.

Can you control anything?

Yes, we can control some things!!! Personally, my family is dedicated to living as natural of a lifestyle as possible. We cloth diaper our babies, breastfeed exclusively, eat organic and local foods, use chemical free cleaners, shampoos/conditioners, organic soaps, toothpastes, chemical free tooth brushes made from renewable and recycled ... See Morematerials. I purchase organic clothing and bedding when possible. We use NO chemicals and/or treatments on our lawn or in our garden. We compost food scraps and lawn waste. All of our personal products (baby wipes, feminine pads, mothwash, etc.) are chemical free. I stopped wearing deoderant completely and kicked my lifelong Dr. Pepper habit earlier this year. We buy all organic meats from a local farm and purchase fresh eggs and milk from a homestead up the road. Next month I am halting purchases of products made in China due to chemical and human rights concerns. We recycle avidly and our family of five (plus several full time visitors) only sends about half a garbage can to the landfill a week. I'm trying to eliminate garbage all together. We ALWAYS use re-usable bags, earth friendly light bulbs, and conserve heat, water, and electricity. This past winter we canceled our natural gas service and relied on high efficiency electric heaters. I plan on converting my home to a radiant heating system.

Lyric ♫

Curls bouncing, wrapping strands, around lips, giggling, bright smile.

Small hands reaching; for, hand to hold, baby to carry, puppy to pat.

Nose nuzzled against warm skin, pressed to breast, lovingly calling out for 'boob'.

Tummy against tummy Mommy love.

And the ever-present binkie.

Trotting in and out of rooms with different pairs of shoes. Calling for juice.

'MaMa', she calls, with loving demand.

Snuggling, bright eyed, beautiful baby love.

Sunlight creeping. Rays dance, caressing leaves on their way down, down to the bright green earth.

Paint. Splashing and prancing to canvas boards.

Wet and gulping green grass ground at our feet.

Stop to pay attention.

Make sure you listen to what you hear.

And there will be; the tiny giggles of small artists being made. Gardens growing lovely things to eat. Whispers of sisters. The painting of noses. Water jar dripping. Snip-snap, the camera catches their rosy smiles.

There is solitude here. It is our very own piece of this world. Here, we can be who we need to be. We can be free.

And they seem to grow by the second.

They are the planting of seeds. The growing of bright beautiful flowers. They are the playfully frolicking in the breeze. The serenity of all things.

With responsibility we must remember; These babies we are making will be the people we leave to do the saving.