Breakthrough

Breakthrough • Do you get nervous in the face of change? • Do you have great ideas, but they never come to fruition? • Do you yearn to break out of the same old routine of life? • Do you want a new strategy for bringing your unique gifts to the world? There is only one thing stopping you from reaching your highest potential – FEAR If you want to break through the barrier of fear in your life and start living your unique dream, join Evergreen in an exploration of The Wheel of Balanced Learning August 17-19 Potters Farm Retreat Center, Washburn Wisconsin This unique retreat will introduce you to: • Eight energies of power each of us hold • Eight strategies for conquering fear when exploring something new • How to recognize and confront fear when it rears its ugly head and • How to bring yourself back to your power. This powerful weekend journey is being offered for only $150, which includes your food and lodging at Potter’s Farm. Limited spots are available and pre-registration is required. To join us, call (715) 209-7802 or email Evergreen at susan@evergreenspiritpress.com

Welcome back

Yes, I know. I haven't added to this blog in a while. What can I say? There have been some changes lately. For one thing, I am now self-employed, working from home and busier than ever. I'm writing two new non-fiction books about medicine wheels and the human/horse relationship. I recently published my third book Winter Bear Woman on Kindle. Now, all three of my fiction books are on Kindle. I now have two grand babies. I'm trying to find a moment between the spring rains to actually ride my horses. And, I have a very large garden. Even so, I pledge to not leave you all for so long again.

Fall riding successful with Aikido

I want to do that, too.

Fall provides the greatest opportunities for beautiful trail riding. Who can resist the soft rustle of leaves and the fresh smell of tannin in the air? From the horse's perspective, the temperature is cool so they don't overheat and there are few flies or other nasty bugs. From my perspective, it is not too hot, not too cold, just right.
I am lucky to live in the country, and have neighbors who allow me to use the trails they maintain through their woods. The trails are for ATVs, but for private use, so they are wide and groomed with few obstacles in the way. I'm taller on my horse than the average ATV rider so I need to deal with low branches now and then, not a problem.
I previously wrote about how I used my Aikido training to lessen the impact of a fall from my horse. Aikido has other techniques that make working with horses more enjoyable and safe. A basic principle of Aikido is to be able to receive challenge, blend with it and redirect the energy in the way you choose.
My horse Eddie is somewhat barn sour. He is the leader of the herd and feels it is his obligation to stay with them. This leads to some interesting discussions between us when the ride starts.
I've learned that it is never a good idea to start a fight with a horse. They are bigger, stronger and more obstinate than a Viking warrior. So, when I want to leave the herd and Eddie does not, I use the "I want to do that too" technique of redirecting energy. Here's how it works:
I ask Eddie to go forward, leaving the herd. Eddie takes a few steps forward and turns to go left. Instead of yanking on the rein to correct his behavior, I accept the challenge and blend with it by saying, "I want to do that too." I pick up the left rein and go with Eddie. However, instead of stopping when we are facing the herd, I redirect his energy and continue the rein to make a 360 degree turn. We are now facing forward again.
Usually, the first time I catch Eddie off guard and he continues for a few steps forward before turning back toward the herd. Again, I want to do that too. I pick up the left rein and we do another 360 degree turn.
Now, Eddie gets the idea and he doesn't want to stop at 360 the next time, he goes for an additional 180 to face the herd, but guess what? I want to do that too. Another 360.
I vary the circles. Some are small, almost a reining spin, while others are large. Some are round, some are egg shaped. Some are done at a walk, some at a trot. Eventually, Eddie realizes he is only making more work for himself by not following my lead. He straightens out and we go on our ride. Once we have left the herd, Eddie is ready to go.
Conventional wisdom would say I'm letting my horse get away with something. Or I'm 'giving in' to him. Or you should never let your horse disobey, make him do it. I often find my style is not conventional. I could have 'made' him do it by yanking on the rein, kicking him, getting angry, setting up a fight. Maybe I would win the fight, maybe not. However, even if I won the fight, I'm now riding on a horse who feels he has lost. My horse and I are a team and I don't want my team members feeling like they lose when they follow me as their leader. I want my team to win. I want following my lead to be my horse's idea.
Also, we've had the opportunity to practice riding in circles, following my feel, turning on the hind quarters, turning on the forequarters, stopping, moving forward and backing up. These are all basic elements of riding and I've been able to practice them while putting a purpose into it. The result is a horse who willingly rides forward, stops easily and turns on cue.
I ride the horse who presents himself that day. Some days our routine may take one turn, some days it may take ten, and some days we don' t need it at all.
A few days ago, I hopped on Eddie, turned him away from the herd and we walked off without a hitch. We ventured into the neighbor's trails and had a lovely ride to trail's end where there is a beautiful field. I let Eddie stop and eat some grass as a reward. I sat with him, enjoying the sun on my face and the call of the crows overhead, grateful for the day and my wonderful horse. Eddie was grateful for the chance to eat on a new field of grass. When it was time to go back, I asked Eddie to go forward.
"No, I think I want to eat more grass," he said, and lowered his head. I said, "I want to do that too, but I want to do it over here."
I directed him to a patch of grass about a foot away. He complied and ate grass. I asked again and we went forward a few steps and Eddie decided to turn. I want to do that too. So we turned, we circled once and he remembered.
"Let's go home instead," he suggested, and we walked back down the trail together. No fight, no fuss.

On weaving and life

I found this in an old cookbook from the Three Rivers Weavers Guild, it is written by K. Alexander from Viroqua:

"The Creator weaves life in myriads of patterns - of worlds and stars and galaxies: of earth and air, fire and water: of people, families, cities and nations; of flowers and birds, kittens and puppies, life and death and love and sorrow.
I weave beauty with fibers of cotton and wool, linen and rayon, colors and textures in intricate design. I weave lullabies and legends into the hearts of my children, dreams and visions into their minds. I weave chicken pot pies and chocolate chip cookies, nourishment for my family; and the cords of love and mutual sharing twine around us and bind us into a unified design.
The weaving is a gift and a process, always changing, always new. One pattern is finished and a new one begins. We do not sorrow that the weaving is done for a new pattern always lies waiting. We look at what is finished and see that it is good, it is complete, and it is time to start anew. What was woven is woven, and what lies ahead beckons. And we weave our lives on the Loom of Life while the song of the weaver of the universe flows through us and all the patterns come together in one vast harmony."

I find this particularly appropriate as we end the old Mayan calendar (on Oct. 28) and begin a new cycle. Let's weave our world with love.

Evergreen

Future of entomology could be secure

I’m not a fan of spiders. I know spiders are essential to our environment. I know I’m much bigger than the average spider and I know most spiders don’t hurt people. I still am not a fan of spiders.
Being afraid of spiders is a common thing among girls. I remember children’s stories when I was small and the spider was always the bad guy, sneaking around and scaring children in the woods. Spiders are silent creatures and good at sneaking andpopping out when you least expect them.
There is one person I know who is not afraid of spiders, my four-year-old, budding entomologist granddaughter Wren. Wren revels in anything creepy, crawly, slimy or jumpy. Spiders rank right up there with fairies in Wren’s world. And fairies rank pretty high.
I had the chance to view the world from Wren’s eyes this past weekend when she and my sister Linda came to visit. Our first adventure was taking Wren for a tour of our new farm.
We started in the back yard and proceeded through the woods to the creek, looking for frogs. Our frog hunt presented only one find, a dead frog lying belly up on the creek bed. Most children would shy away from such a stinky, slimy specimen, but not Wren. Wren reverently sniffed the dead frog and touched the smooth skin, then allowed us to give it a final resting place near a rock.
Our next find was a slug, crawling on a leaf in the tall weeds. Wren picked the entire leaf, and carried it and the slug along until we got back to the house. The slug was given a new home in an old pickle jar, along with the leaf.
On Saturday, Wren, Linda and I packed into my car to enjoy the South Shore Pottery Tour. Wren’s first experience on the ferry to Madeline Island seemed fun for her, but there weren’t any creepy things involved. However later that day, Wren found the black cricket which had been living in my car for several days. It took her only a few minutes to catch the cricket and deposit it into an empty water bottle, also with a leaf to feed on. Wren carried her cricket through the rest of the pottery tour.
At home, the slug and the cricket took up residence, each in their own jars, in the kitchen. I’m not sure where the dead bee Wren picked up later ended up and I’m not asking.
My husband came to me that evening and asked, “how long do they need to stay in the house?”
“Until Wren goes home,” I said.
Luckily, we didn’t find any of Wren’s recent favorite spider, the Black and Yellow Garden Spider. She has them near her house and revels in seeing these patterned beauties which can grow to be over an inch long. The most we could come up with were a few Daddy Longlegs, and a small house spider making a web on my hedgehog fruit (which is supposed to repel insects.)
Luckily, Wren took her slug and her cricket home and my kitchen is now bugfree once more. It was probably a better deal for the cricket who would have ultimately died of starvation or heat stroke in my car.
For Wren, entomology isn’t a chosen profession yet. She doesn’t even know the meaning of the word, though we are trying to teach it to her. At present, entomology is more like an obsession for Wren, or a lifestyle. Her house is filled with bug boxes, jars and a dead bug collection. She’s been known to carry dead crickets in her pockets.
Hopefully, entomology is an obsession she will continue to foster as she gets older. I see her studying everything that moves, crawls, or slithers. She is a bright child, and if she continues to enjoy the world of bugs, she may grow up to be an internationally renown expert on these smaller specimens of wildlife.
I would be glad if this happened, because even though I know insects and bugs are an important part of our ecosystems, and need to be cherished and preserved, I still don’t like spiders. So, I’m glad there is someone out there who does, even if she’s only four years old.

Add a little salsa to your life

Fall is the time of harvest, bringing in the bounty of the summer’s labors. Though the first hints of the chilly weather to come have been felt, I’m still waiting for all my tomatoes to ripen.
This spring, a friend gave me several heirloom varieties she grew in her greenhouse. I planted them in our newly tilled garden and watched as the spring rains nearly drowned the fledgling plants. My heirloom tomatoe plants withered and drooped through most of the summer, until I thought there was no hope. For safety, I planted a few other varieties in a separate bed.
But I’ve found these heirloom tomatoes to be a hardy lot. Perhaps that is why they have survived over the many years it takes to earn the moniker of ‘heirloom.’ My tomatoes decided to grab on to life during August and now have sprouted up to tall plants with green leaves and green tomatoes. Slowly, they are getting the first blush of ripeness. Meanwhile, my other tomatoe plants, who showed better signs of survival through the summer, aren’t any further along.
I examined the heirloom plants and found three slightly orange tomatoes with black and brown lines and spots on them. Not being familiar with the variety, I thought this meant fungus or insect infestation so I picked the less than ripe looking tomatoes to prevent further damage. I took them into the kitchen to see if I could cut off the offending parts. With paring knife in hand, I sliced through a thick skin to find brilliant red inside. These tomatoes were not only ripe, but delicious, with a thick, sweet inside.
They were the inspiration for the first batch of fresh salsa of the season.
I am horse-sitting for a friend who also asked me to water her tomato plants while she is gone.
“Go ahead and take home the ripe ones,” she said.
My salsa recipe is the kind you make up as you go. Whatever tomatoes you have go in and the more varieties, the better the batch. I mixed my heirloom jewels with some small orange tidbits and cherry tomatoes. Romas went under the knife with Better Boys. My favorite addition are the yellow, bell-shaped tomatoes and I was able to find several ripe ones in my garden.
My onions didn’t fare very well this year (probably due to the weeds I didn’t get around to pulling every day), but I was able to find about ten small heads hidden in the weed bed. I added in some yellow and green peppers from the grocery store. My pepper plants are all leaves and no peppers.
The one abundant thing in our garden is summer squash. I had three large, yellow specimens on the counter.
“I wonder what salsa tastes like if you grind up summer squash,” I asked my husband.
I ground and he tasted, finding the squash did not have much taste on its own. We decided it might add texture to the salsa and I needed to do something with the squash so into the bowl it went. Finish up with some cilantro, salt and lemon juice, and stir.
The result was quite colorful with reds, greens, oranges and yellows. The onions, though small, were powerful and the squash added a light crunch. My husband is the taste-tester for salsa and he proclaimed it, “the best batch ever.”
I will take this compliment, even though he says it about every batch of salsa I make. Perhaps it means I’m getting the recipe perfected. Or perhaps he just loves fresh salsa. That’s a good thing because if all the green tomatoes have enough warm weather to ripen before frost ends the garden season, I’ll be making many batches of salsa for the freezer.

Art lessons from a four-year-old

My four-year-old granddaughter Wren is not only an amateur entomologist, she’s also an artist. She was doing a painting of an ocean a few weeks ago with acrylic paints. She mixed peachy pink and lavender and exclaimed, “This is the perfect color for the ocean.”
My sister, also an artist, looked at Wren’s concoction and agreed. It was the perfect ocean color.
How a four-year-old could not only know the color of the ocean, but mix that color from two different colors, is amazing to me.
This past weekend, my sister and I went to Grand Marais, Minn. on a camping trip. My sister was taking a pottery class at the Grand Marais Art Colony, and I was taking a three-day class in pastel painting.
It seemed the water theme followed us.
Grand Marais is along Lake Superior, where stunning water meets black rock and green landscapes. We parked our camper in the municipal campground. Getting into town from the campground was a few blocks walk along the lakeshore, then two blocks up the hill to the Art Colony. The walk was beautiful, whether it was in the fog of early morning, the bright sun of afternoon or the calm at dusk.
I had brought along several photographs to work from in my pastel class and chose a picture of five women sitting on Bay View Beach in Washburn. I wanted to explore painting people and the instructor was a former figure and portrait artist.
We began our paintings and my sky turned out quite nice. Next came the deep section of Lake Superior, again not too hard. The middle section was the shallows, with small waves not quite breaking over the sand bottom, which was visible through the water. Getting just the right color for this section proved to be difficult.
In class the next morning, my instructor informed us we were going to learn how to make our own pastel sticks. Pastel sticks are made of pure pigment with a binder. Our task was to crush parts of our pastel sticks, mix with water, then add either white or black pigment with the binder to create new colors. The new pastel was rolled into neat sticks and set in the sun to dry.
When taking a class at the Art Colony, you have access to the studio 24 hours a day. After class was over that afternoon, my sister and I went back to the camper for supper. When I told her about my experience with mixing pastels, she reminded me of Wren’s recipe for the ocean, peachy pink and lavender.
We walked back to the Art Colony, and while my sister threw pots in the clay studio, I went upstairs to work on a new pastel color for my painting. I found a stick of peachy pink and a stick of lavender then wondered what proportions Wren had used in her mixing.
When exercising my adult brain proved unhelpful, I decided to think like a four-year-old. I split each stick in random halves, crushed them, added water and stirred. Comparing the resulting color to the photograph of Lake Superior, I was surprised to find it was the exact color I needed.
I left the stick to dry over night.
Our morning was spent with a plein aire demonstration by the instructor on Artist’s Point. The instructor perched her easel on the rocky shoreline and painted a multi-layered rendition of the outcropping rocks and lake while we sat in the sun watching the changing colors and listening to the tourists watching us.
After lunch, we again gathered in the studio and I was able to try out my new, ocean colored pastel stick on my painting. When I was finished, the instructor said, “I wasn’t sure how you were going to do on that water section, but it looks very good.”
Thank you, Wren, for saving my painting.