Be back when I can see better…
Throughout Once…
ballads
were sung
over cattle herds
and
fires…
of
burning mesquite.
Stories told
like tumbleweeds….
of
hammerheads
and
Spanish
steeds…
Lies
told
in
barn lofts
or
even on
Grampa’s knee
Ever shrinking
space
and
watering holes
have
taken
their toll
on all….
They fight
to survive
the endless
threats
of
ugly
death…
****************************************************************
My computer is still down…I’ll be back in town and catch up with everyone come Sunday/Monday! The rain stopped, my phone line started working and my horses are high and dry and loving their new home.
I’ve missed you all!
love and hugs,
Katie
Pelting drops arrive
I’ve been working on my computer. I almost had it rebooted and running again ..but then it re-crashed… It’s calling for a new hard drive… I’m calling it something else . I think if I can get in through a black hole I can reprogram it.
I’ll be back by and by… I’m in the middle of moving my horses to higher grounds.. fencing in the ( soggy but not flooded) property ( yep , in the never ending rain! ) ….going to the j.o.b. ….. my phone line is out….
My brother brought me a chocolate bar… lol.. that’s love! 
cheers!
My computer crashed…. so I posting this story which I had posted in my chatty blog some time ago….. cheers!
I was hiking up a trail near the Kenduskeag River in Maine when I ran across an old man. He was picking wild herbs. His eyes were clear and shining, full of intelligence, and set deeply in the creases of his wizened face. His name, he said, was Nicolas Tomaqoise Miquois. We talked awhile.Then he invited me to his camp a few miles over.We sat down in his Hodge. Me, in my expensive hiking clothes, the skinny, elderly man in his ragged long john underwear and faded jeans. The quiet spoken Nicolas stirred the embers of his earlier fire with a poker. He blew on the coals lightly. The flames started to dart along a strip of wood. Nicolas pulled a flask out from under a blanket and offered me a drink. He took a sip and then he began to speak softly.
“My people tell the story of how we, the Abenakis, came to be a community over a thousand years ago. There was this bazegw zanoba, one man, his name was Tomaquois-mageso. They say he went high up in the mountains where land meets sky. They say he must have climbed for days like a monkey because no man has climbed it since. It is said that Tomaquois-mageso was full of wisdom . He was a dreamer, a medicine man. Yet he wanted some thing more. This is his story as told by his son to the next son to the next. Such is the way it is done. ” He offered me the flask again before he took another sip. Then he continued with his tale.
“One day, long, long ago… I had a dream. I saw myself running. l was a wolf, sniffing the trail as if I was following the scent of a fat rabbit. The path was surrounded by a forest of pine trees. The ground eventually started to get very rocky. Still I ran and I ran. Night came. I slept in a hollowed out tree. I woke up and started running again. I remember thinking that it was not easy to run and run for days. I was thankful that I was not a lazy man. For many days and nights this was so.
Then I came to a ravine. I could not climb around it. I could not climb down.
My body started stretching. I saw myself become a black wild cat. I leaped over the boulders. I trotted up and over the downed trees, my claws digging into the bark. I climbed and scampered across the ground until day became night and night became day again.
Then I came to a body of water. Kci Kuspemokl. I could not climb around it. I could not swim through it.
I felt my body changing. I saw myself become a pigeon hawk. I started to fly across the water. I flew until day became night and night became day. I flew until water became land again.
But, I could not fly up the mountain, Ktotonok. I could not fly that high.
My body started growing. I saw myself become a caribou. I started to run again. I ran until day became night and night became day. I ran until I reached the top of the snow covered mountains.
Then I saw myself. I was a man again. I reached into my leather pouch. I pulled out some of my dried herbs. It is good to rub the powder to cleanse your hands first. Then I made my offerings. To the North and South; to the West and East. I blessed the Mountains; the Waters; the Sky. I thanked the Sun and the Moon.
I chanted as the day turned to night and to day again. I made a contract with my god. I asked him for Behanem, a woman; to love. I would keep her as my own; in my custody. I would name her Cindra – Gizos. One whom lights my many fires. And so it was.”
He paused before adding,”That is how women, ladies came to be. That is how the totem pole of the Abenakis came to be with the wolf; the black wild cat; the caribou and the pigeon hawk. “
He paused again as if deep in thought . Then he stated,” I am growing old now. I am the last of my people. Perhaps one day you may tell your son this story; my story. This way, my people shall live on forever. “
And so they shall.
Once…
I made
your body
ache…
your
voice
break
breath
catch,
your
hands tremble
as
they
touched….
me.
Once…
you
use to smile…
laugh,
and play…
flirt
outrageously…
Once….
You said
you loved me.
