PORTA-TENT TO PORTA-MEAL

Jean Hosted...
Darwin explored...
We all feasted...

played music...
laughed...
relaxed...
cut...
stitched...
created and...
CELEBRATED with two new noon-new-moon-noorsing-mumus!!!!

Berry Nice!

Rachel and Darwin met us at their home for the November New Moon. It was an unseasonably warm and golden day.








After lunch, Rachel gave us each a dreydl she had made and boxed with the origami boxes made during the July New Moon. Also, folded in the boxes were accordion books telling about the dreydls and how to use them.








Then Debra and Jean watched...











Darwin...












and Rachel...











dig holes...




to plant BLUEBERRY bushes!

Blood Moon

This particular new moon will wax full into the Blood (or Hunters' or Shedding) Moon. In New England, this is a busy time of harvest in preparation for winter. Farmers and hunters, wild animals and human householders alike are harvesting and storing food... either as body fat or in caches and storerooms. For many, this includes shedding the blood of animals in order to provide meat to eat during the cold months ahead. How appropriate for a new moon gathering in which we honor the females' monthly (blood shedding) cycles. Even the trees are "shedding" their leaves in preparation for a time of rest. Darwin sorted apples.

Margaret made an apple pie with locally grown apples and butter from our own cows. Jean showed us how to print greeting cards with some of the leaves she had picked up and pressed the day before.

We gratefully shared nourishment from our friend Brigitte's first deer of the season:
"The doe was the third I had seen in a healthy year. Many acorns, lots of grass and now wild and domesticated apples.
The state of Connecticut certified me to teach hunting- to boys and girls and men and women. So I do my best to teach what I have learned- from a good innate sense and from others who know about patience, and an appreciation for the wild that must be a religion.
I tell them, let go that first shot with your arrow. Take the second. If your can't match the rhythm of your breathing, in the rush of adrenalin, to the rhythm of the deer, don't shoot. let it go.
Anti hunting critics say bow hunters injure deer. I tell them about the deer I shot at 35 yards with an arrow through the lungs, that had a shotgun shell hole through its ear.
The Indians had a belief that deer chose the hunters that would fell them. Hunting silently, as close enough to your prey to see the ticks on its ear, is far different than the machismo of gun hunting. they are ruminants, like cows, and have many similar movements. So this doe was the third I had seen. I passed on the other two, that had single fawns in September still in spots. It was a late rut last fall, warm. The fawns are weaned now. Still its hard to rationalize the emotion. This doe had twin fawns, perhaps I thought better able to care for each other. She took the arrow at 21 yards, and ran 50 before falling dead. It was a good, painless kill. The fawns lingered in the distance, then ran up Indian Mountain..
I dragged her down, and across, carrying my metal stand on my back, and my bow in my hand, as proud as any Indian could have been on Indian Mountain."
Read Blood Moon for more thoughts on the sacred act of eating meat and this special time of year.

ALOHA!!

For September's New Moon, we joined in an Hawaiian Luau at Jean's retirement village home.



We
celebrated
our
creative
spirit
by
dressing up...











and
by
dancing
to
the
music








We
nourished
ourselves
with
the
home's
banquet
buffet



And relaxed with an outdoors stroll and by reading to each other.

ANGELS WATCHIN OVER ME

We met at Rachel's to make kool-ade colored angel mobiles.
Rachel had already made the angels out of white, carded lambs wool.

We filled custard pots with hot water and kool-ade...

and dunked our angels in for a swim.

When they were saturated with color, we rinsed them in cool water and laid them out to dry.

Then we tied them to a sanded tree-branch and hung them up where we can watch them watching over us!

HELLO DOLLY!

Jean shared copies of her Art of the Book group's paperdoll illustrations of the stanza's from Maya Angelou's Best Poem Ever (see the May 09 post)and we tried to guess which dolls matched which stanzas.

BOXED IN or OUT OF THE BOX???

We celebrated Debra's birthday with a special lunch and were treated to a recounting of Debra's birth by her mother, Jean. We lit a candle for the family and friends of a young man who had disappeared in the river. Rachel taught us how to fold paper boxes out of origami paper and we mass-produced several for her dreidl project.