The Moon Pool

There is a secluded place on a popular hiking trail that I call the Moonpool. Warm rocks surround a pool that, depending on the time of year, is either pleasantly cool or frigidly freezing. Leading into the pool is a small waterfall, that you can get under if you want to get really wet. Don't go down the creek leading out of the pool, or you'll be inevitably pulled over a gigantic white waterfall, down to the jagged rocks below. Sometimes it is a perfect swimming hole, other times it is only safe to cling to the side of the pool as you wade in. I discovered it in high summer, when it was cool and still, unlike now, when it is cold and currents swirl through its dark blue waters. You can get to it by branching off the main trail in one of two ways: following a small trail, surrounded on all sides by manzanitas and overgrown bushes, or climbing the rocks next to the giant waterfall and follow the river for a while to reach it. I know that I am not the only one to know about it, as I have met others while swimming in it, but it feels like my place, like a place that no mere tourist knows about, and that only the very worthy should be filled in on its whereabouts. It is enchanted, the Moonpool. My legs cannot touch the bottom at the center of it. On one side there is a small cave made by an overhang in the rock, as deep as the center of the pool. On the other side, flowers like penstamen and small succulents grow in the cracks between rocks, and your first step into the water, even in high snowmelt season, is only ankle deep. Right now, if you throw a piece of pine bark into the turbulent waters near the small waterfall, it will be swept out of the Moonpool, into the white waters of the river, and the last glimpse you will see of it, ever, will be the bark taking a sharp turn down into the waterfall. Yesterday I visited the Moonpool. I felt like I had to at least try to describe its beauty. The water was freezing and restless, but I still waded in thigh-deep from the flower side, staying in for a few minutes at a time. I loved it.
P.S. Warriors Fans rejoice! The Moonpool has been found by Twolegs and named according to the Medicine Cat tradition.

Marina, Kidnapped part 1

As I have mentioned before on the blog, I have been writing short story and I wish to publish it on here. So I will. Here is the first segment of the short story I have entitled "Marina, Kidnapped."

                “Mom, tell us a story. A bedtime story!” exclaimed Maria, Lily’s youngest child.

                “Yes,” Lily’s oldest child agreed, “none of us have heard a story in a long time. Please, for Maria, will you tell one?”

                “Okay. I haven’t had the time to tell a story in a long time. What story do you want to hear, Maria?”

                “The best one!” exclaimed Maria.

                “Alright,” Lily laughed, “Once upon a time, in Old England, a daring young girl, let’s call her Marina, lived in a palace by the woods…”

                Marina argued with her mother and father over absolutely everything. She knew that they hated her. And there was no question in anybody’s mind that she hated her parents. After all, they were the people who forced her into corsets and ball gowns and finery. Like what she was trying to fit into right where our story begins. Marina had a bit of a broad build, she definitely wasn’t chubby in the least, but she was very muscular, which made it very, very hard to fit her into garments made for daintier ladies. For example, corsets, Marina’s third-to-least-favorite-thing in the world (the second was princes and the first was, of course, her parents.)Marina huffed out of hatefulness and horror at having to go to yet another ball. She puffed out of exertion and exhaustion. Finally, the corset tightened, albeit resentfully, because of the hard work of Marina’s mother, Revoltia Theodora Lowlady the Five Hundred and Forty Second. Behind her back, all the servants just called her Revolting, but she never was able to nudge her prying, gigantic, light purple nose into that little secret. The only reason Revoltia named her daughter something completely different was that she always had resented the last name “Lowlady.”

                Anyway, I’m going on and on about things you don’t want to hear about, right? Let’s just say that Revoltia finally forced Marina into every little jewel and piece of silk that could possibly fit on her body. In fact, let’s fast forward to when Marina’s mother leaves the room, after the lecture on etiquette, the lesson on how to manipulate a prince so that he will fall madly in love with you, and the fight about whether or not Marina could periodically go outside for fresh air during the ball. Yes, that’s a very good place to start.

                Marina breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, that old hag was gone. Now, she could get the one thing that always comforted her and calmed her. It had been bought with money stolen from her parents. It had a handle carved with swirls and dragons all over it. It shone in the light from Marina’s window like a star in the midnight sky. It was a dagger that was in Marina’s hand, with a handle of marble and a blade of pure diamond. It was beautiful, to be sure, but it was a dangerous weapon. The diamond blade could slice clean through glass if it was needed to. Luckily, Marina had never had to use it for real, but sometimes she liked to go into the woods at night to practice. She took a bag of sand with her and drew an X in glowing red on it. Then she practiced throwing, stabbing, and anything else you could imagine doing with a diamond dagger.

                However, we won’t go into that now. It’s another story for another day. This day there was a ball, as you may remember. Let’s fast-forward again, past Marina entering the ballroom, past the time when she spit in the eye of the prince she was dancing with, and past the lecture to Marina, provided by none other than Revoltia, about the importance of marrying off. Let’s go to when she went outside for a breath of fresh air, despite her mother’s wishes.

More next week, because I like to keep people in suspense. Thanks for reading! Any current critiques, comments, compliments, corrections, curiosities or questions should go into the comments below and they will be answered shortly.

Thrift Stores Yaaaaaay!

Today I went to various thrift stores around town and I scored some nice deals: a pair of fuzzy boots for next winter, $6.00, a pair of saddle shoes, $12.00, a nice doily I bought on impulse, $0.75, and, my favorite, a beautiful, flowing skirt made of contrasting black and white fabric.
In other news, I'm reading Catching Fire for the second time.

Weekend Update

I have been busy this weekend! I planted seeds, planted pea seedlings, got 2 houseplants that I will hopefully be able to keep alive, went to the feed store to look at cute baby chicks, got a fennel seedling and planted it, and, I saved the best for last, I am now in loving possession of the two Campine chickens in the guinea pig cage in the living room.
Really long sentence. Let me start from the beginning. I planted four rows of Candy Mountain corn seeds in my garden on Saturday, between rows of started pea seedlings. I have about double the amount of pea plants this year compared to last year, because I have discovered the amazing properties of very fresh peas. They are everything that store bought peas are not: sweet as candy, very green, delicious. There are also the things that I love about pea plants. They are nitrogen fixers, easy to grow from seed, and if you put a greenhouse in Antarctica I think you would be able to grow peas. There was also the pea challenge, which Jenna Woginrich posted on her blog, challenging rural and urban farmers alike to grow some peas. I accepted the challenge heartily, and now have about forty pea plants growing in my garden. Forty! It should be fun.
Then there were the houseplants. At Home Depot on Sunday, I caved and bought 2 small houseplants for 4 bucks. I will post pictures later, along with pictures of other things. They are beautiful houseplants, I just hope that I can keep them alive. I tend to kill houseplants, however much of a green thumb I have outdoors.
The feed store isn't much of a very good story. I went to my Friendly Local Feed Store, where they had big horse troughs filled with some cute, cute chicks. Oh, and then there was the trough of "chicks" in front, who were, creatively put in my very own words, in "The Ugly Weird Juvenile Stage." Oh, those were some ugly chickens. Even though when they're the chicks you've raised by hand you think they're still cute, really, they're quite hideous.
Planted Fennel seedling acquired at plant store in garden. End of really bad story.
Ah, yes, my favorites, the new chickens. One of them was named Feisty by her previous owner and is actually quite calm. Feisty is show quality. The other chicken I have named Spunk because, really, that chicken has some serious Spunk. I found that out by touching her a few times. They are beautiful chickens, and I hear that Spunk is quite a good layer. Feisty and Spunk. My new chickens. Heh. Heh.
So that's all for now, I will keep you wonderful people updated. Because, ya know, I'm so reliable.

Campines!

So, today, hopefully, if a certain Campine breeder happens to check her voicemails soon. For those readers unfamiliar with the breed, Campines are a breed of chicken almost bantam size, which means that they're about half the size of a normal chicken. Because of their small size they do tend to lay smaller eggs, but I'm figuring that I'll be able to eat these Campine eggs while still providing my regular egg customers with the eggs they're used to. I don't eat many eggs, so the size shouldn't be a problem. They are barred, which basically means they have stripes, and I believe that I will be getting Golden rather than Silver Campines. If you need some visuals, I'll have pictures up when I get the chickens.
By the way, I'm getting laying pullets (possibly hens) rather than chicks. Pullets are any female chicken under the age of  1 year.

Just Sayin'

I think it's time for me to get realistic with you guys. On week days I get home and crash or do things that really need doing. I hardly ever have time to post on the blog. So expect the bulk of my posts to come on Fridays or during the weekend, when I have the time and energy to write. I would love to write more frequently, and maybe some day that will happen. If it does then I will certainly let you fine people know, but right now it's just the weekend, folks. Expect some posts tomorrow, and I'll ry not to disappoint.