mumma yaga

 January 13, 2024  It snowed. I kept the fire going, and I cooked black beans for scones, and fried mushrooms in soy sauce and maple syrup. A little maple syrup on the scones was heavenly. You can make scones with anything.  Elliot's lines kept coming to me. "At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point..." * I watched the snow falling; there was no yesterday, no tomorrow. It is bedtime, but I feel curiously awake. The snow has stopped now and there is a star in the sky. The lights of the town are visible, and headlights flash behind the trees down the distant hills. Mumma Yaga * Excerpt from BURNT NORTON (No. 1 of 'Four Quartets') by T.S. Eliot

January 4, 2024  One faces a task, without the will to do it. It may be as simple as the dishes, or as overwhelming as a tax form. Then out of the blue, the resistance is gone, and just as one falls into the space when the wall you are pushing against gives way, you fall into a void where "will" is no longer a need, indeed it is behind you. You accomplish the task, in that space of ability.  It started when I began to ready the house for a visit from Elf and her family. Rain helped and we cleaned the upstairs, vacuumed the main floor, and accomplished other preps. Elf cancelled, to have a day or two of complete rest at home. She has been performing six or seven shows a week for the last three weeks, with a couple of days off for Christmas. I was relieved, really, because there was much more to do and I was low on spoons. But the cleaning urge, indeed the cleaning, has continued. Mice have been wandering the tables where the blue cave and its bits await my attention, so the wh

 December 29, 2023 Ten days since I have written. It feels like months since we returned to Quebec. It has been eleven days. Christmas came and went. I had dinner, on the 25th, at Rain's, though K, the hermit, stayed at the vineyard. Rain and Tal prepared a traditional dinner, turkey (one of the several they raised themselves), potatoes, carrots, beets, stuffing, and gravy, perfect. We sat six around the big wooden table in the kitchen, Tal's father, an old friend, and Tal's aunt. It was quiet and cheerful, warm as if candlelit, though there were no candles. The big woodstove kept us warm.  Fox slept through dinner. He woke just after we ate, and with his usual matter-of-fact acceptance of my presence, showed me his new toys. I was as delighted with them as he was! There were trains and cars and helicopters. I gave them voices, which delights Fox - he insists I make them "talk" some more. We put out numerous fires with the firetruck and helicopter, and rescued sev