Drum Roll...

People, it is mayhem around here. MAYHEM. And I love it.

See, whilst in the big city in New York, I've either been some sort of recluse, or maybe I've just been overburdened and running around, but there didn't seem to be enough time to actually LIVE within my life. Ill fitting in my own skin, jangled with worry, I felt like a stranger in my own life.

Here, there is enough time for hard work, AND hard play, and on a daily basis, there are activities, curiosities, and friends everywhere.

After a long day of water maiden duties yesterday, the boss-friend took me to a drum circle. Now, this sort of frivolity was not new to me. I dare say, I have a drum, tucked neatly into a dark and musty box in a New York garage. I was sad realizing this, as we journeyed our way to downtown Harrisburg to catch this festivity.

I must say, this place is a strange bird: muted and conservative on the outside, she's eclectic once you scratch the surface. My Tribe Of Weird is amongst the well suited folks here in PA, just as loud and colorful as you please.

The drum circle was no different. It was refreshing to note the many types and ages of folks who came with their instruments, to herald the sunset on the street at the edge of the river:

                                                                         Drum Line!

                           .....and Irish drummers with the Celtic Frame drums!

                                             People brought their cute pups....

                            And more cute pups...framed under cool street art!

                         ...And dogs who wanted to get in on all the action!



                                           

                                                    There were little drummers!

 
                                                 All the way up to older drummers...

                                                                  Rock on, musicians!

                                              And rock on dancers and hoopers.....

Including little hoopers!



And what's this? Be still my heart--a fiddle player (and barefooted, to boot)!  He, along with some brave and brilliant others, brought their NON-drums, and showcased their musicality by playing within the heady rhythms instigated by the lead drummers. This fellow managed to find an old Southern tune amidst the heavy African Congas and Djembes, and had it blend in seamlessly!

                 

Of course, at the end, I went up to him and asked if he taught. The poor young man was flush, and too humble--he said he didn't teach, but I knew he was too good a fiddler. Meanwhile, I tried bargaining--after all, there was a shiny red instrument tucked away at my house, with no other occupation than gathering dust.

He gamely took my card, and said he'd think about it. I smiled. It was all I could do. For a long time, I had been waiting for magic to happen, and here was a chance to learn not only fiddle, but DRUMMING, as this group met twice a month.

As the sun set, I thought about all of the other game possibilities. If a girl could grow a garden, get an entirely new job, and score free furniture in just the space of two months, what else was out there?

Magic.....

Tick Tock....

                                                 

Tempust Fugit is the Latin name for Time Flies, and if you're not careful, 'round here, you're likely to find yourself trapped in a strange dimension.

It's a strange combination--with so much happening that, at Times, it seems I've been here FAR LONGER than the less-than-two-months that is actual timespan. And yet, at times, there is sooo much happening, at Times, that days fly by before I can wrap my mind around what next to do.

There is the garden, of course, with it's own tiny miracles and dramas. It is a strange thing for a nomadic personality to place all bets on a plot of Earth, but here I am, happy with the humble offspring of seedlings planted a mere month ago, and the fruits of the boss man's farm, in general:

                          Last night's dinner ingredients...sans rice. I suppose if I knew how to grow
                                                 brown rice, it would be shown here, too!




                                                                From Berry Season....
                            (Strawberries and Mulberries greeted my in my first few weeks in Pennsylvania)

                                                                    To Cucumbers....
     

                                                           


                                                                      To Apricots....

                                                                          Even garlic!

                                       (Garlic braiding is a relaxing pastime, who knew?)


There have been farmer's markets and festivities galore....

                         A farmer's market near the house, in Lemoyne PA....Summer peaches...




                   This young farmer's market  fella was possibly the best guitarist I'd ever seen for his
                                        eight years...could carry a tune better than some adults!

                    Raw milk---probably one of the only states I know that still has this going on...

I've since found enough free furniture to finally get my little ramshackle cottage in order (another tale for another day!), harvested and sent more of our honey out into the world than I would have expected (and a hearty and hale "Thank You!" to all of you who seem so interested in what my wee bees are doing), spoke with the Plain People of this state, written more than I'd ever thought, and experienced so many gorgeous views, that I don't know why I hadn't been here sooner...

And yet, and yet...

The planning phase seems never-ending. Those of you who are aware of that affliction of mine--yes, Virgoism--will know my incessant need to organize my motivations to within an inch of my life.

Currently I am in a conundrum...what ducks to line up, what needs be important, what to let go...



Looking at horse driving schools. Ironically (or, perhaps, common-sensically), they do not exist near Harrisburg, the capital of the state. Of course, plenty of RIDING schools exist, so perhaps I'll just opt for more horse-work.  I also am wondering if it is wise to LEASE a horse?  Horsen friends, any advice??

Is there a local horse-folk who happens to not mind me dealing with learning to drive on their horse?
All the world is a farm with horse power, and I'm on the opposite side of the fence, alas!


Teaching Dance...yes, long ago, when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, I was a performing artist. I ran a dance and theater troupe, and for a long time after that I continued to teach th crazy dance that shaped my life. Apparently, having spoken with a few sage people who are interested in such artistry, it looks like I may be teaching somewhere along the countryside. Hooray (and fingers crossed).

Farm Magazine-ing.....Because clearly sleep is considered a hobby, I'd launched myself headlong into my other love---farming. Yes, again, it's sort of  non-sensical for a nomad to get tied down into land-loving, and trying to get a piece of dirt, and promoting others getting their own pieces of dirt, or at least making a sustainable life, but here I am doing it, along with some other fantastic writers and dirt-loving people, as well, apparently. But now, I am looking to see if we can get our online magazine in PRINT.
Yes, there is much hyperventilating and the wringing of hands, but again, I've been sent forward with a great recommendation to a great printer, so it's a question of researching whether all of this writing online shall translate..

More Bee Wonders---I am working on other magical things made by our bees. Certainly, there is our wonderful honey, but there are beeswax charms and other twisty goodness around the corner...


Art? This is the hardest of the bunch, at the moment. Every folk artist should have a nice cornucopia of folk art, right? But the current state of being doesn't allow for such frivolity.

For awhile, I'd been working on this beginning of a clock (thus the Tick Tock theme comes full circle!)

If this looks slightly different than my other creations, it's probably because I am drawing in my OWN NATURAL style instead of a highly stylized "recognizable" design.

BUT I was told that there are artists who already do this sort of work, and on clocks, and no use venturing further, as it would be considered a sort of copy of the work...so there she sits.  For a long time, I had wanted to branch out, but no idea what next?

So much to do, not sure where to begin?? Where would you begin?

And what have you been doing with your Tick-Tock Moments?

Tales of The Herbwyfe.....

If you crack open the inside of me, what you will find are the quiet longings of my soul. I think much of the strange meandering happening here has to do with the neverending thirst for knowledge and experiences. Oft-times, there is a poignant realization that I won't have the time to do many of the things that capture my fancy...perhaps you feel this way too. Life is fleeting, and there are only so many interests one can pack into this short little suitcase on an even shorter journey.

Amongst the things that I've yearned to try was herbalism. It seems an honest and prudent pursuit; at one time, people knew the wild plants by name, sang songs and concocted elixirs to help others--it was all natural and Allnatural, before the era of big pill business stole this away from us. Like those who knew the animal tracks, the song of birds, and other ancient good knowledge...it is all fleeting. And for one admiring of the Folk Ways, it seemed a smart, or at least a curious thing to do.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I tried being a diligent student. I knew friends, tons of folks across the country who go about this, lickety-split. I kept books, journals, little collages. I read...and read some more. But I was already at a disadvantage, you see.

Already--as I said--my plate was full, and that is a good thing. But, living in the middle of a large city, the growing and experimenting of herbs was limited, at best..which wasn't a good thing.

But now, in my travels I've found myself surrounded with wonderful amazing herbwomen who have worked with these plant lives and made them something special. I am forever grateful to Maggie Howe, Lynn Parkey, Rosanne Tartaro...and now Tina Sams, for showing me the beauty of these simple green gifts.

Tina Sams is my latest "in person" friend who has made a business of working with, writing about, and supporting other herbalists in the quest for herbal knowledge. You may or may not be familiar with her publication, The Essential Herbal, but do yourself a favor and order this lovely magazine, if you are interested in herbalism.

Tina and her sister have spent more than a decade working on the herbal craft BEFORE she launched this wonderful magazine, and before they started making some wonderful soaps. At one point, they owned an herbal shoppe, but the vigors of work and overhead may have been just too much. Launching into herbalism 10 years ahead of it's time met with it's own brand of skepticism (and still does, to a degree), and so perhaps a better fit is to provide an online outlet for fans and practitioners of this time-honored task. I suppose it's easy to dismiss herbalism as modern voodoo, but the truth is that LONG before pharmaceutical companies had us worshipping their pills, the herbal men and women were the ones who knew the plants that were THE ONLY medicine available. And clearly, civilization thrived because of it.  Even now, your little aspirin tablets are still made with Salix Alba, White Willow--a cure for aches of all sorts since ancient times.

Tina and her sister, like so many of the storied people I have met on this journey so far, are amazing people. Tina's sister and husband live on the unlikely place of a Christmas Tree farm, brought twenty odd years ago. Amidst this, Tina plants herbs, makes tinctures, runs a soap making establishment with her sister, in a too-cute cottage on their vast property. They grow fruit, laugh, publish a magazine....and even give a newbie much assurance and needed advice! I am in love with them, and Tina's daughter, also. I walked away feeling I had gained a new tribe of Wise sisters, people interested and concerned about some of my off-the-wall projects, simply because they'd been there and done it, too.

As with my visit to my Folk Art Friends, these Folk art women are part of that strange and precious tribe I am working on. It's funny how each state I have visited has yielded these jeweled women to me....and there are yet more adventures to come.

The Folks in Folk Art....

For a long time, it was hard to classify this strange little grouping of things I was doing. I mean, imagine the looks you would get when you explain that you beekeep the way your grandfather did, make old-time dolls and wooden wonders, speak on farming, write, dabble in herbalism, and take care of animals and plants?  What exactly IS that?

I had no words for it--mostly the inside joke was that it was a whole lot of NOTHING--but then how could so MUCH amount to a hill of beans?  By and by, after much hemming and hawing, there was an idea, a word for this strange predilection of mine: A Folklorist.

Yes, I know that should sound like someone who stands around telling folk tales (and I have!), but I believe it encompasses a folk oriented life.

There are others like me--in varying degrees. Like so much of the tribe I run with, there is an air of mystery, whimsy, magic, otherworld-liness, or at least outside of the box thinking. Truth be told, I believe most souls are born with this incarnate, but somehow the Ordinary World, the rigid world, beats this sort of life out of many of them.

In any case, it was high time to meet a few of these amazing FOLKS in PA, as I was long missing a community of rabble-rousers, and I was also excited to meet those FOLKS I was meeting...

And so it was, I kitted out the aptly appropriate Caravan (also known as The Jalopy) and off we went, FINALLY, into the country.

Within fifteen minutes of highway time, I was outward bound into the fresh air and landscapes that draw envy to rural lovers everywhere. Visions of grandma and grandpa's farm danced across the landscapes, along with old red and white post and beam barns, silos, corn cribs, spotty cows.

Soon enough, I would be seeing them--first my folk art friends Carolee Clark and Jennifer MacNeill-Traynor, and then my folk herbalist and writer friend Tina Sams. They all lived here, in this enchanting rural place...where so much creativity seems to thrive.

When I finally met Carolee, she was all that she seemed online--warm, bubbly, and vivacious...but also a bit camera shy. Her beautiful home sported much of her folk art, amazingly detailed scenes from fairytales and fables, with flourishes I wish I had command in in my own art. Her house was bustling, busy with art and books from everwhere, and a passel of charming animals--quite the characters! Three cats and two of my favorite breed of dog--Australian Shepherds!



             Kady and Cosmo...luckily they have a fine home, or they would be coming with me....


Carolee was up for anything, and accompanied me around for my favorite "addiction"--antique shopping! We stopped at various old shoppes, full of a marvel of treasures galore. Luckily I had more prudence, and less money, and managed to tear myself out of each place empty handed, though I eyed everything madly and with puppy love.

                  The following is from Carsons in The Cornfields (stop by if you are in PA!)



 
Beyond that, we hit a few old-style country stores, tucked away in stone cottages, flanked by plants, and on roads traversed by horse and buggies. It was a surreal experience, indeed.

We returned back to Carolee's home all too soon--but just in time to gather a pot-luck dish, for we were going to Jen's house for dinner. We whisked off--with Carolee's kind husband John in tow, and soon enough, we were at another enchanted friend's house!

                               Two of a kind...Jen and her daughter Zoe....

 


Jen, her husband Kevin, and Zoe immediately lived up to their whimsical reputation--Jen has a passion for horses, gardening, art...and generally is the sort that surrounds herself with extraordinary things and experiences, I feel. And who wouldn't feel welcomed by a Welcome sign for their guests?



Her daughter is an amazing kid--and while I probably should hang around more such children, this child seems particularly perceptive and sensitive.

                                     Look at what she made me! I was honored.....




We forayed into Jen's beautiful house and even more beautiful garden. It was clear that her work in this small green spot was not a fly-by-night sort of thing. Amazing, what a few small seeds and time and care will do!


                                                                 Jen's love of horses................




                                                       Super cool shaded gnome....




                                                               I love this owl statue!




Inside, dinner was fabulous (and I was thankful for their thoughtful vegetarian fare!) and we talked about life, art, horses...it was a smashing time.


And the best part was yet to come--an open S'mores party!  Jen fired up her beautiful little metal pit--encharmed with moons and stars, and back we traversed into childhood!


                                                                           Fire-pit magic!



                                                
                                                       Zoe takes charge of the fire pit....










Life is good! Friends, food and fun...may the Vagabond-ishness continue!

TOMORROW--FOLK HERBALISM with Tina Sams!

A Honey of A Whirlwind Weekend

 If there was ever such a thing as a hurricane of delight, these past couple of weeks might have well bore that title. There is too much going on here, people, too much…one would barely know where to start on this Chronicle of Dreams.

A good place to start is where I left of--with The Jalopy.




Yes, this is the official unofficial name of the new steel horse I’ve gotten myself. To the mundane eye, she is actually my work car…and yes, one might thank my boss friend, as this vehicle was one of his work caravans. She’s an old gal, not perfect, with plenty of dents and dings. But she was a great price, and big enough to double as a modern day gypsy wagon, once the year is over…or maybe I’ll trade her in for an actual gypsy wagon once the Pennsylvania year is over..who knows?

Beyond the acquisition of my new horsepower, there is progress in the furniture department. Yes, you may remember I was on the hunt for house accoutrements and the goal was to find them for free. Since boss man had extra furniture amongst his mother’s house, he lent them to me. There were also a pair of funky chairs in his cabin that also have managed to make their way into my little cottage (hmm, I think I am going to have to bake boss man a cake for all of this outward display of generosity!)…

To say the place looks bohemian is probably rather kind, but it’s a hobo life around here. I’ve taken some rather humble before pictures--this place is still in sort of a shambles. I’ve yet to put together some of the more charming aspects..so consider these a rather disheveled litmus of the early parts of house arranging:

The living room, still boxed up...the little wooden chair was found orphaned on a street corner...



Yes, the couch is messy. It's also made of two different kind of fabrics. Methinks I'll need to remedy this somehow...



A bohemian bedroom...



Other news around here includes…even, more news!

Firstly, consider my socks knocked off! I am mightily puffy chested and equally grateful at the outpouring of interest in our honey and honey products! I think we may have sold an all time record (so far) of honey in our first week between this week and last week. My heart has swelled with this sweet and kind display of honey love. We our sold out (for now) of our lavender, cinnamon, and regular RAW honeys.

And thanks to those who were brave to try my new honey lotion. I do believe the postal workers are tired of seeing my glowing face carrying so many packages!

HOWEVER, I am planning another little trip back to the Big Apple to work with my black and gold, winged friends and hope to have some more honey soon. I have hatched an idea to work with HERBED honey, or honey with essential oils in them, but I’ve yet to literally delve into it. It’s sort of an exciting little time, and I shall let you know what comes of it.


In the meantime, for those of you who asked about the book, Farm and Feast, which features us…here is a fun picture from the book.  Yes, indeed, that is me highflying on the fire escape, headed for the green roof that houses our precious apiary.

Click to biggify: you can also read a bit of text to give you an idea about our book entry by the author..



The front of our  apiary.....

Speaking of more publications…I keep forgetting that little artistic side of my life. For now, it rests somewhere just out of reach, past schedules, and job appointments, and garden planting, and honey harvesting and future-planning. But it is there. Drawing was the absolute first artistic love of mine, and opened paths to acting and performing and writing. Painting and folk art lie somewhere at the spine of my heart, and then will pleasantly pop up to remind me of themselves--such as in this Art Doll Magazine:

PRIMS magazine has been kind to feature my painted art doll bunny in their gallery. If you didn’t know, I have another folk art life amongst that myriad of other folken things that I do.

Finally--because the marching parade never stops around here--I will finally, FINALLY be heading out into the countryside of Pennsylvania this weekend. Visions of sugar plums and Amish wagons have been spinning on this moment for years.  Do not doubt that my heart races just a little faster at the idea of old barns, winding hillsides and horses and cows in verdant old-time settings. Truthfully, I will be there to visit fellow artists Carolee Clark and Jennifer MacNeill-Traylor, noted artists in their own right. But, there will be antiquing, photo taking and the mandatory eating of country cooking, I guarantee. 

So stay tuned, as I dare say my next post will feature more Whirlwind Weekend Mayhem..unless the horses carry me off, first!

What A Whirlwind Weekend!

                            A different kind of horsepower! And YES, she is now MINE!

The Firework Heart

                                 


These golden days of Summer are sweet, indeed...full of possibilities. I am still a visitor in this charming place...Pennsylvania is as unpredictable as anything....full of history, tons of events, one foot astride the past, the other amidst a very community oriented present.

And here I am, smack in the middle of it, a month long citizen of this place, and center stage at the center of all Summer events--the Fourth of July!

And here, it was slowly all working out--I finally met a few new friends via boss friend--his friends had just moved into his neighborhood--a young couple and their cute seven year old son. They, and their cousins, would be joining us for the Capital's fine Fourth festivities.

Yes, I was tagging along to what might be deemed commonplace to the locals--going to see the Harrisburg Symphony play at the local minor league baseball stadium, followed by fireworks.

We arrived at twilight, a goodly stream of people surrounding us as we took our seats in the cozy stadium. The early evening air was still warm, but not uncomfortable....

                                

A peaceful Fourth to all!

Then the symphony--happily, if casually, dressed in short sleeved red white and blue tops--first tuned their instruments, then prepped for their maestro:


The maestro himself was refreshingly a young and funny guy--using his hands in animated expression, joking in between great pieces, and generally being quite the entertainer.  Here is the back of his shirt. Clearly, he was in a holiday mood.

                          

The music was good, though not strictly classic.However one couldn't help the infectious and sentimental feelings of music choices...for myself, this was singing EVERY WORD of "The Sound Of Music Medley" (and I do INDEED know all of the words, much to the mock horror of all of those around me).

I was in love with the whole thing--people sang along, clapped, chatted happily. Funny, I don't remember quite this much happy comingling in New York, but it felt like a BIG family gathering. And one couldn't help but get a lump in the throat when the conductor played all of the anthems from all military forces and asked those who served to stand. I can't quite recall any such thing happening at any event I'd been to, even patriotic ones. There was a slight tingling feeling, staring at fleshing and blood, young and old people who have been made to be brave.  One could not clap loud or long enough for such people....

The final musical selection was "The 1812 Overture" in which a small bevvy of fireworks were set off towards the end. POP went my heart as people clapped.

                            

We then sauntered over to the parking garage where boss-friend had parked his car--we'd realized that the roof would be a perfect spot to watch fireworks. Once we ascended, we realized that several others had come to the same conclusion as a goodly sized crowd had encamped as the last light faded...

Soon enough, the fireworks seared color onto the sacred night--one of history and community married in that strange mystery known as tradition...where people converge as they perhaps done for millenia. The night held it's breath, little bats shrieking in the night, only a sigh louder than little children shrieking and playing, people laughing and one girl's heart popping as a firework's heart.

There was only one sad realization, that I have no one here to hold hands with--I am missing some of my friends and loved ones, but here, on this roof, there is a small spark and sparkle of possibilities yet to come...