pocatello — Page 8

Morning Habits

September 2, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

Include but are not limited to:

-cutting fresh flowers (as you saw HERE)

-watering the veggie garden and hanging flower baskets

-turning on the pickle in the studio

-feeding Mister Pinky and letting him out of the studio

-checking for red in the rhubarb patch as well as tomatoes, zuchs, cucumbers, beets and string beans

-feeding the dogs

-feeding the self

-saying hi to Sue

–chatting with Burda as she strolls by with her pooch

-deadheading the roses

-consoling Farley

He happens to be terribly depressed.

Bird season opened yesterday in the great state of Idaho.

…and he didn’t get the chance to fetch me my dinner.

Poor fellow.

Poor me!

There’s nothing half so tasty as a freshly harvested, freshly baked, entirely organic, happy little free ranging Ruffed Grouse. There’s nothing half so happy as a bird dog with his quarry in mouth.

Hang on Sequoia’s Fleet Farley. Hang on. We’ll get you doing your business before you can say jackrabbit.

PS I’ll be updating the Etsy shop tomorrow morning as soon as I have new work photographed and ready to roll! See you there!

PSS On a totally unrelated topic, isn’t THIS amazing? I actually spent part of my childhood near Dauphin, Manitoba, Canada when my family was stationed in Riding Mountain National Park. We had interesting wildlife scenes similar to this, rather often, in the front yard. Spotting lynx is very uncommon. Seeing an entire posse is downright amazing!

Filed Under: farley and penelope, idaho, plume gables, pocatello

Yarnbow

August 31, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

Truth be told, I’m not a very good yarn-stress though I do enjoy the clash of the needles from time to time. What I REALLY dig is a trip to the yarn shop. I don’t usually purchase anything while I’m perusing the skeins there, I mostly go to rub up against the color spectrum.

If I can pick up a handful of skeins and actually see the colors in my hands, it aids my imagination even further when it comes to stone combinations and just general color combinations in life. The colors at the yarn shop are bigger than bright. To see that much rainbow in such a small space makes my heart feel like it’s popping out skittles with each beat.

I like to see what my jewelry looks like up against a combination of colors, colors I would call:

south face of the tree trunk

tired cheat grass

in the nest

liquid sunshine

feeling oh so

elderly lady lavender hair

a dash of poupon

Does anyone else like color as much as I do?

Fess up.

Hope your weekends were delish. I’m off to lunch now and then a steady afternoon stint in the studio. Cheerio little tweedleydees!

Filed Under: domestic arts, pocatello, yarn

The Noisy Plume and the Stream of Consciousness

August 22, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

AT RANDOM:

Well it’s home again to Plume Gables and the greatness of Idaho summertime. As I sit here typing, the night bugs are scratching out their cacophony with drawn out leg strums and the staccato of antennae against evening air. The grapes are mumbling their long summertime sigh, “Longer. Taller. Reach further. Grow plumper.” Thank God for the darkness outside, the silhouette of the mountains in the distance, the heady scent of sage winding through the screen door and around my senses. I love home.

I also love lavender cheese. This stuff cannot be beat. I spent too much on a block of it from the fish shop at the local Pocatello Co-op and I don’t regret it one bit. I’ve been living on it and black bean salad with fresh garden veggies and avocados. Eating, these days, is such a simple pleasure. For the most part, I glean what I can from the garden and wash it all down with iced tea and plain yogurt (Nancy’s). These are mundane life details but I feel like we haven’t talked for so very long that I’m inclined to give you the long and the short of it all.

Little rocks with big plans. Lined up, smooth talking on the front porch railing. Hot in the afternoon sunshine. Little miracles. Mountains on my doorstep. I want to slice them in two, keep one half for myself and give the other to you. We’ll keep them in our pockets and run our thumbs over their smooth faces when we attempt to be wise while making big decisions in life. Little stones for peoples with busy fingers and complicated nexus.

I gathered them at the South Fork of the Snake River

under dark clouds, beside the wateRRush.

What makes you choose one stone out of a pile of stones? The color? The texture? The size?

I nearly always have a rock in my pocket.

A rock and at least 3 hair elastics.

I’ve spent the day remembering all the things I thought about while crisscrossing Idaho, Oregon and Washington. I remember most of all, listening to one song by Fleet Foxes, repeatedly, in the dark while following the tail lights ahead of me:

Come down from the mountain

you have been gone too long…

…call me anything you want

any old name will do

call me back to

back to you.

[Fleet Foxes]

I couldn’t get enough of those notes, drawn out long and laid out bare.

I felt like a witness, unto myself, listening to that song.

AS I WRITE THIS. I’M NOT SAD. I JUST AM.

Summer is strong enough for me; strong enough for us both.

There was a clear stream in Oregon, on the edge of the pines. I set my bare feet down it in but it felt like I dropped my soul in that cold spring water. I drifted to sleep under blanket blue and when I awoke, I wasn’t thirsty any longer. And when I took to the road again, I flew.

Of course, while I was away, the garden connected with it’s tribal-jungle heritage and grew zucchinis the size of lamp posts. This is one of five:

[this is a classic pose of mine by the way…]

This weeks harvest:

zucchini

green beans

onions

tomatoes

basil

sunflowers (does this count?)

beets

The concord grapes are nearly ready!

I can’t wait for the entire yard to smell purple.

And lastly, reconnecting with my studio space, my metal, my stones. Pouring out a few metalliferous thoughts. Building necklaces, three sheets deep. Curvy rings. Flowers and etched bands. The embrace of bezel against stone. I have many treats for you birds.

Happy Friday.

It’s so good to see you again!

What have you been up to and how does your summer flow?

Love,

PLUMENTINE

Filed Under: plume gables, pocatello

Morning in the Garden of Eden

July 11, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

STOPPING TO SMELL THE ROSES

AND THE CAT

MY FIRST POPE JOHN PAUL THE II BLOOM

NECTAR OF THE GODS I TELL YOU

SO FRAGRANT

I’D LIKE TO CLIMB INTO THE HEART OF IT

IN THE CABBAGE PATCH

I THOUGHT TO MYSELF:

PEOPLE ARE A LOT LIKE CABBAGES SOME ARE PLUMP AND ROUND AND LOVELY AND OTHERS HAVE WORMS IN THEIR HEARTS

A BIT CYNICAL…I KNOW….BUT SO VERY TRUE

RAMBLING PAST THE DELPHINIUMS

TARRYING AT THE LUPINS

BEAMING DOWN ON THE YARROW

PRAYING FOR SQUASH

ACROSS THE PETUNIA PATCH

OVER TO THE SPRADDLED HOLLYHOCKS

WHAT’S FOR DINNER

LOVEY DOVEY MISTER PINKY

THINNING THE BEETS

BECAUSE GOOD THINGS NEED SPACE TO GROW

SQUASHING THE TWERP

SENDING YOU LOVE AND SMIRKS

SQUANDERING SUMMER LIKE IT’S A HANDFUL OF PENNIES

Post Script:

1. New water main = perfection.

2. Had RW on the telly line at midnight.

3. Going to the market with M.

4. Zucchini fritters for breakfast.

5. And a huge thank you to all the ladies and gents

who were kind and gracious to me this week. It’s a joy to know

you, to have your support and to feel the warmth of your

goodness.

There aren’t any worms in your little cabbage hearts.

No not one.

Filed Under: idaho, plume gables, pocatello, summer

In the front yard lurketh:

June 13, 2009 by The Noisy Plume

Now that winter is through, they have ceased their tom foolery with the bird feeders though they do still enjoy shuffling around on the front porch at night (sets Penelope to wild bouts of woofing and snuffing at random intervals).

Filed Under: idaho, mule deer, plume gables, pocatello