My little netbook is so small that my tummy tries to type all the time, when I rest it on my thighs at a comfortable arm's length. I can be typing for a couple of minutes before I find that the wrinkle of my clothing and the insistence of my belly, have moved the cursor in the body of work and I am making no sense at all. I love my little netbook, its size is usually convenient, however... I should try using a regular keyboard with her when I have a lot of text to upload...
I am watching the world closely these days, as I see Australia dealing with the dangers of cyclones that threaten to be bigger than anything they've ever seen before. I have people on that side of the world that matter to me and it is unnerving to be so far away. I would really be stressed if I couldn't find out more online. When I searched for info, I found satelite maps, radar maps, web cams and on the spot postings from people that really brought me to feeling like I had a handle on the pulse of what was going on. I am relieved it wasn't the storm of the century after all. The information is still coming in as there have been power cuts in the northwestern areas of Queensland as to storm damage, and there is devastation in some regions, but nowhere near what officials had been dreading.
Hop around the planet to Egypt and Mubarak has apparently gotten on the entire country's last nerve, with street protests the like of which has never been seen before. Unrest, protest, death and the possibility of a democratic Egypt are all in the balance right now, and I watch with bated breath as that unfolds, my prayers with the innocent people there, too.
Bringing it home, our family is in turmoil. My sweetheart, Ron has a dear old mom who isn't doing so well. Her gruff exterior hides a core that is growing increasingly more defensive and fearful about what is to come as her body has started to show signs of wear and tear. The ever-present responsibility of my Ron, who is the best son imaginable is crushing but he has so much more on his shoulders than the needs of an 82 year old woman. A 40+ year history of soldiering is coming to an end and he has bureaucratic departments of all manner feverishly pulling all the necessary paperwork together that will facilitate his retirement, pensions, prospective reeducation and other related items.
We are also looking at moving in a couple of months, larger digs that will release us from the demon of the storage place, that sucks money from us monthly.
I have started working on the Ragology, the combined collection of works gathered over 10 years of the Moonwit Collective, the beginning of which was over 20 years ago, when there was little menstrual education to be had. For those of you who aren't aware of this, Moonwit is the acronym for Meeting Our Own Needs With Imagination and Tenacity, and is the name of a collective I created in the late '80s. I was selling washable cloth menstrual pads at fairs, events, through magazine ads and had been noticing that my pad customers were a very unique demographic that caused me to want to collect them. I didn't just want to be in touch with them during a transaction, I saw that they were collectively a treasure trove of wisdom, sustainable understanding and permaculture education that it would be wise to learn from. At the time, people would pass me information and artwork, poetry, stories, articles until I had a milkcrate full and finally, I compiled it all into a single sheet newsletter. The subscribers to this little sheet, affectionately called 'An irregular periodical - The Rag', were my customers. I had figured out how to collect them!
In the days before the world wide web and computers, MW grew through the use of what technology was available at the time. Photocopiers, typewriters, an old gramma sewing machine. The second issue was more sophisticated, and by the time MW grew to 700 subscribers and the editorial team consisted of many amazing people, we had a 36 page, full size magazine style underground 'zine that targeted an incredible market of conscious people.
Moonwit became too much for me as parenting, then my degree and further foster parenting took over my life. I trend watched the evolution of the alternative menstrual / wise woman/ woman's wisdom industry as it developed on the internet and have grown very heartened to see the leaps and bounds this kind of education has taken by incredible inspiring women who have found a way to help women facilitate the shifts they need in order to have a more easily managed womanhood.
Now, I have my degree behind me yet business doesn't appreciate an educated crone. I rest on laurels that widen by the day. What's wrong with this picture? I have decided that there is indeed a market for the Rag in all it's forms, the individual sheets and the anthology that I am starting to bundle up into a fun compilation of old and new.
Ragology is the tentative name for the project, and it will contain the works of all 14 issues of the Rag, plus back story and updates about involved members, kids that were little at the time, and anecdotes about my process of creating the Rag uneducated, then gaining a Woman's studies and First Nations studies perspective and revisiting the body of work I created two decades ago to reflect on those observations as well. It will have my works in it and with permission, that of others. Artwork that is shocking and fierce, gorgeous, funny and hersterically appropriate will adorn the pages as will the incredible poetry of our former Moonwit Mavens. Even the Guy's Eye will be represented as updates and back story from that may be forthcoming as well.
I know that we are all bearing our burdens. Family, health, finance, faith problems abound for everyone, and I don't mean to complain. When I bring up my struggles, its not for sympathy, but for a sense of the timing of my life, maybe even a bit of a warning about how things could change drastically any moment and share that its good to know in case I fall off the radar for a few days.
The global warming problem is starting to become apparent as extreme weather has become a part of our daily news fare. The economic situation has become so out of whack in many parts of the world that the ripples begin to affect our lives here and I watch a military cutting the bones and brains out of its promises to protect. I see a church through Ron's involvement, that is splintered, kneecapped and treated like a product rather than a living, breathing community of parishioners. I am watching my kids go through their challenges, each one as critical to their future as the next. Some are excelling, some are in a crash course of adulthood, some are licking their wounds and some are still off on their own tangents, I'm sure that eventually they will surface again.
Just before Xmas, my boy cat Ciao got crystals backing up his urethra and it cost Ron's mom a fortune as she stepped forward to help save his little furry behind. I can't believe how much vets cost these days! That's just the icing on the cake.
My ramble is done and I'm getting off the soapbox now. I'll leave you with a fun little video that I found by Old Spice. (I know, parfum/fragrance is not a good thing and its packed with it, but its a funny commercial...) and the actor...well... he's... *fans self* kinda tasty.
http://www.oldspice.com/videos/video/34/questions/
Hope your Imbolc is a happy one. Mine consists of memories aplenty as I anthologize The Rag, set up new altars for spring and generally try to be the best spider in the middle I can be. Do share what you're up to!
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