(P.s. Fanfare followed by rose petals floating to ground...........Announcing the 18th annual fiftieth birthday party of Dame Dorothy the Betz and the jp person. Sunday, the fourteenth at five pm ish. pot luck. The weather has been a bear lately, so be advised and give a call if in doubt and if it sucks, i'll get the word out.) It is a moment, illuminated by some mystery weaving its way and bringing future and past together. And in that moment, no tale is left untold. Somehow all is revealed. Then, gone until the next time and the next form and the next circumstance brings the same revelation, clothed in finery of a different sort. And when we see through the fashion to our innermost passion, it is then and only then that............................... This miniature epiphany has been brought to you by an intuitive if incomplete Flash, triggered by the act of swatting to their doom two mosquitoes, joined in coitu flying in front of my very face. My very face. The Noive...... In my entire life I have only twice had the opportunity to even behold the sight of mosquitoes "doinit" mid flight, no less feel their teensy malevolent life force meld with oblivion in the palms of my hands. Not at all sure if anyone else has had this experience, but it fulfills so many levels of seratonin releasing stimuli that one cannot help but run smack dab into a visionary experience not unlike eating chocolate farina laced with dmt for breakfast, which I promised I would never do again. O.k., now that I have your attention, the small above ground "kiddy" pool whose sole purpose is for the display of young koi looking for loving water features and large aquatic tanks, whose placement was strategically planned under the shade of an Inia tree to discourage the growth of algae and whose filtration system claimed to be adequate to keeping clarity has, after the first rain turned to what could be described as an entry into a lentil soup contest in downtown Mysore. Now solution has turned to dilemma but has already begun to describe itself as solution again. Howizit possible? Where's that shit come from? I like giving up, too. Sometimes. But NNNooooooooo. Must figure this shit out. NOW. Seeing the deeper meaning to the saying "plenty of time for rest when your dead." We are endowed by and indebted to the relentless refinement of life force. We thrive, To thrive so that giving up comes with a certain grace and ease. Embrace and transcend. Our motto should read: "Rancho Relaxzo, we'll get this shit figured out yet, and if not, s'what." Makes for a very layed back, "bring it" attitude. Like bring it, but maybe a week from this coming thursday, eh. If musical notes were bananas, then I be playin' bunches. Been fun teaming up with Grimes and getting our wig on. Miss Meaghan continues to delight and i'm always thankful for the opportunity to get out and get it out. No matter how long one has been immersed in a pastime like playing music, it never gets old and continues to grow in its inclusiveness. I did give up on the grand chicken revision plan whereby day olds would be brought in just in time to start laying when the remaining chowder heads have forgotten their raison d'etre. This will cost me in more ways than one, but there are silver linings popping up all over the place allowing me to, once again editorialize my way to being correct in every way, and profoundly, nay prophetically so. Howizit possible? The wall that separates a certain measurable control from utter chaos is paper thin. I live in that wall. Everything = Possible. On the farm there are so many known variables constantly effecting outcomes. Variables that can be tamed or enhanced or made to self replicate. But there are also the unknown variables vectored in by insect or wind or on the heal of a boot or the wake of a bad idea which can and do change everything in ways that compel us to make them part of the known so that the chaos is somehow re branded and brought into the realm of measurable control. Paper thin. Had a nice skype with the mother ship earlier. She is whittling her way to escape velocity as thirty four years of life in her home is slowly reduced to the essential mah, ready to transport at the drop of a dime. Hard to imagine the floodgates and the memories pouring forth. She is, as usual handling it all with characteristic wisdom and grace. Nurse Kristen has passed the three week mark without need of a psychiatrist, so that's a good sign. She is still "off the scale," although the scale has been recalibrated so as to be able to explain and include such a phenomenon into the realm of the known so that a degree of measurable control can be applied to what would otherwise be delightfully hard to explain. Paper thin baby, paper thin. Yes, I don't want any of your gifts, so bring them anyway and I'll donate them to a charity that benefits me and me alone. It is my sincere hope that at the next writing I will be able to report that we have koi for sale that you can actually see swimming around and that we will, once again have overcome the odds and achieved the "better than a baboon" award for intelligence and inventiveness in the use of Amazon dot com. Week in brief: kind of peaked with the mosquito thing. The more you show, the more we'll grow. Peace, Jp