Spring Waning Bloodroot Moon
The weekly let down after my round of Ovid has set in, exaggerated by the two day drive-a-thon to Lincoln, Ne and back. Let down may not be the best phrase. An easing up, a lull, a caravan serai. All better. An internal nod to the energy of the week and the things accomplished, a time to enjoy, not focus.
The Sollie-Rigel wars have not yet fully waned, but they will. Rigel rolled Sollie over on his back last night in the living room. I thought that would settle things, but not wholly. Dogs love to defend passage ways, a door, a cage entrance, a passageway around the couch, a gate. Sometimes that defensive trigger gets punched and restraint soon flies away, giving way to bared teeth, raised ruffs and lots of snarling. Very primal.
It is, I noticed, much easier to step into the midst of a fight when the contenders all weigh 100 pounds or less. When the Wolfhounds fought, Tor and Orion for instance, it was 180 pounds against 180 pounds. Puny human of not much account. That’s the time for buckets of cold water. Works surprisingly well. When I got tired of the posturing last night, I barked myself, put a hand on Rigel’s collar and another on Sollie’s and finished it.
My leeks and herbs have not started. Not sure what I did wrong, I might have fouled up on getting the potting soil wet enough. Or something. But, I have to start over at any rate. A weekend task.
Each domain, vegetables, dogs, perennials, bees, Latin, art, politics, friendships, family has an inexhaustible number of lessons to teach us. Staying open to learning is so important. And sometimes pretty damned hard.
