Village Rhythms, early March: Inside/Outside, Below — and, unfortunately, Above

As spring draws near, daffodils —

and other flowers — what are they? — peek out of the ground, push up through layers of wood chips,

seeking the sun.

Oh! And a single  blossom! What is it?

Meanwhile, seven of our nine podmates were actually present last Monday morning, for a work party, to plant peas —

 

and get a bed ready for potatoes —

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adding fragrant, finished, over-wintered compost —

while puppy Shadow lay patiently watching nearby,

and “director of operations” Rebecca oversaw the whole.

Then, on Thursday evening, another Community Dinner, this one featuring baked chicken from me, in the “lead.”

Lots of juicy conversations —

and the finale, my presentation on The Energetics of the Astrology of Donald Trump and the U.S.A. Ice cream afterwards, so people — despite many (most?) of them Trump-haters — would stay for the program!

“Remember, folks, we are focusing on the energetics, not on the politics,” I kept saying, over and over again, as I pointed out the warlike, volatile, impulsive, even violent Mars connections both inside Trump’s chart and in Trump’s connection to the U.S. chart. In short: his volatile nature cannot help but stir up the volatility in the U.S. populace. There’s no getting around it. And then, without recognizing it, we polarize, into love and hate. Let’s not!

Several people told me afterwards that the presentation, kept deliberately elemental, and only 30 minutes long, was “eye-opening.” That included Rebecca.

Glad to know. Maybe I should take this presentation on the road? Any group within, say 150 miles, want me to visit you for an evening? It sure would help if we Americans learned to notice our own reactions to things, rather than just blindly feeling them and then immediately shifting into judgment. Once we notice something, we can transform our response, and perhaps even use this intensely energetic period in human history  for the public good.

Oh yeah, and puppy Shadow (above) got a haircut two days ago, transforming him from a dirty mop into a handsome fellow. It took four hours . . . I gave the groomer a big tip.

BTW: As I got in the car to take him to Delilah’s at 8:00 AM, I couldn’t help but notice the sky: drowning in chemtrails. Which means that whatever are the poisons that spread out and turn into a mist, they will rain down on our soil, get in our plants and water, and into our lungs and stomachs.

Notice the cross that has just been created in the lower left hand corner? Ten minutes later, it too, had spread. That’s how you know a “contrail” is really a chemtrail. If it stays a long time, and spreads, and sometimes even seems to drip. Because it does drip.

 

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