Exciting news: That FeetUp Trainer I mentioned in the post about why you might struggle with headstands is now a whopping 33 percent off! Yeah, that knocks fifty bucks off this cute little yoga inversion prop.
I've spent a good deal of time talking about what we had to extricate from the Dragon Flower Farm, i.e., invasive plants like honeysuckle vine, winter creeper, and even autumn clematis. Yes, it's been at times a tragic tale of what the botanists call "disturbed" areas in suburbia/near urbia. But not everything existing onsite when we bought the house in November of 2017 was undesirable. You might be wondering what we're planning to keep. Here's a list by category.
It started with the nest, which went up the last week of May, when the weather was nice enough for Kathy to crank open the louvered window. It's a lovely nest with a classic cup shape. Kathy lives in Seattle, Washington, which is still rainy and emerald this time of year. The nest was fashioned with a layer of twig in the center cushioned by an impressive gathering of juicy green fronds around the outside.
We're still in the throes of a long-term project to replace turf with a blend of plants that are ideally both native and edible, or at least one if both can't be satisfied together. I'll describe the very important turf remediation project in a future post dedicated to one of my favorite topics, mulch. But for now let's talk about the super fun part of gardening: putting in new plants.
I apologize for leaving you hanging--on the fence, so to speak, over the winter, when I mentioned we had another solution in the works to screen the view of the apartment building that looks down into our little 1/4-acre. But here it is: trees.
But there's one aspect of yoga that never ceased to be a struggle for me--until I wised up and decided to cease with the struggle altogether. That's inversions.
A curious thing happened this spring here at the Dragon Flower Farm. All manner of daffodils sprouted up and rung their little bells to signal the change of season. It was curious because this is our second spring here at the farmhouse, and last year, we didn't get this kind of show. We think the latency might be because the year we bought our house, the developer who flipped it had basically razed the grounds down to nothing but short grass and nubs. Since bulbs won't flower again if you cut their leaves too early, they might have gone into a bit of shock from that defoliation and needed time to recover. The neighbors told us the yard used to be full of flowers every spring, and now we can see it for ourselves!
Our house turns 115 this year, and that's something to celebrate. Built in the year of the iconic St. Louis World's Fair, she's a solid, sturdy old gal with a few frills and flounces that tell you her history. Let me give you a tour.
Whoa?! My stepson, Zander, must have been practicing yoga since birth to have such an advanced Reverse Prayer Pose, right? He should totally be an Instagram yogi star. #yogapose #yogafit #yogabody #yogafitness #yogaaddict #yogagram #yogaholic
This time I'm here to share the last chapter of the fence-install story, and it's a shocker.
Stephens' biggest argument against set sequences is "the potential strain caused by doing repetitive actions." The example he gives is from the primary series in Ashtanga Vinyasa style, which leads yogis through Chaturanga Dandasana more than 50 times.
My yoga practice began 25 years ago - with a yoga video tape I played on a VCR at home.
In its native environment in Asia, I'm sure it makes for a wonderful garden vine. Its dark green, ovate leaves foreground the vanilla cream-to-pale yellow flowers that appear in May. The scent they give off is intoxicating, a heady, thick sweetness you can practically taste. In fact, you can taste it; pull the pistil out and touch its end to your tongue, and it's like a dab of sugar. In fall, the flowers give way to bright red berries.
Anthony loved the property's quiet, farm-like feel. A quarter acre is a lot of land to play with, the biggest plot either of us has had across the span of adult lives spent in ten different cities, six different houses, and more apartments than we can count.
Those of you who follow me on Instagram probably noticed a recent obsession with insects.
For now, here are photos of the "yarden," someday to become the "Dragonflower Mini-Farm." It's a 1/4-acre plot close to the St. Louis city limits. Right now it's a gargantuan amount of turf for us--I mean my husband--to mow (seriously, he wants to be the mower in the fam), but in the future we hope to transform it into an organic garden of vegetables, fruit, nuts, herbs, and native perennials.
It's hot today, with the thermometer already at 94 degrees and steadily climbing. So I'm inside, working on a cool announcement I'll be making this week, hopefully. In the meantime, here are some pics of my garden.
I begin most days by drawing a tarot card. It's part of my spiritual practice to think about the current challenge or lesson and draw a card that, when it's all working well, gives me insight. One day last week, I drew The Devil.
Apparently seeing what women really look like is great as long as I’m not one of the women in the photos.
From his posh penthouse apartment in New York, he brags about making fifty cents a word on his writing.
I was featured along with six other writers in a blog series about writing with intention. Our host, Alexis Donkin, believes that "fiction can shape the way we think about the world."
I couldn't help but think of our conversation when I read the first reports about Orlando. But on my own social forums, I felt speechless. My silver tongue had no words. Then a good friend posted to his Facebook page something beautiful and sad and just right
I found through this process that it's generally good to be friendly and invite conversation, especially if you're a writer, as you never know where a good story is hiding.
We thought the kid would turn into a nerd like his parents, but he's following his own path. So I'm the proud but somewhat bewildered stepmother of a rapper.
Thoughts about how stupid meditation is. Heavy processing of the day in review. Hearing the sound of my husband snoring.
I've been writing weekly wellness articles for a local "movement studio" where students can take yoga, a sensory-based dance class called Nia, tribal belly dancing, and meditation. I'm a member of Embody and can be found there nearly every day. The owner is running a 90-day fitness program, and the articles I'm writing are part of an exclusive newsletter for those who sign up for the challenge.
Nobody, that’s who. And what a radical declaration that is! I bet the powerful egg lobby is marking a red X by my name as I type this.
Poached, fried, sunny-side up, whipped into quiches and meringues, placed atop a Korean bibimbap, snuggling cheese and veggies as an omelet blanket. I love a runny yolk, sopped up with toast. I look forward to Easter for the hardboiled eggstravaganza (you knew that word would work its way in eventually, right?)
So when a new store opened up in my small town that paired yarn and cheese, I had to check it out. They're both the products of sheep, so it totally makes sense to pair them, if you keep animal products close to their source.
What does wool have to do with cheese?
My friend had recently adopted a vegetarian lifestyle himself, but when I offered him beef made from grass-fed, organic, humanely- and locally-raised cows, he accepted. A nice, juicy hamburger is hard to turn down once you've removed the ethical stumbling blocks.
In this piece, I delve into Althauser's emphasis on the joy of movement at any age and condition, tell the story of her connection to Embody, the studio where she teaches, and describe her nifty hobby of making mandalas.
Today I have a guest-post up on Chris Michaels' blog - please check it out. Michaels is the author of The Power of You. I first heard him speak on a podcast and felt an instant kinship. I'm excited to feature a post from him here on Cat in the...
Hey, get your mind out of the gutter! THAT is not what I'm talking about when I say "self-love." Besides, here in middle age after decades of practice, I think I've got that one down.
My husband and I just bought a quarter of a cow. Yep. A whole quarter. It's the meat of grass-fed, organic, free-range cows. These cows are also practically our neighbors, as we drove for, oh, about 10 minutes to get to the farm where they live.
Remember when you were a kid, and you wrote with marker on the wall, and you were sent to your room without dessert or TV that night? Well, now you can write on your wall and eat your cake, too.
Dear Seattle, I'm leaving you now, but I don't really want to. But I do. I mean, I guess what I'm saying is, you're an incredibly hard city to leave. I'll miss your concerts and your KEXP and your free neighborhood music festivals all the glorious summer. I took my...
Their youthful replacements are poster children for the Seattle Freeze, and they wouldn't know customer service from The Postal Service.
But Generation X has always been on the cusp of an empire in decline. And what that means is that a lot of us, despite our practical idealism, find ourselves in adulthood having to shift from savior mode into survival mode. - See more at: http://www.typepad.com/site/blogs/6a01b7c6dfbed3970b01b8d069b60f970c/compose/preview/post#sthash.SXgGQtOV.dpuf
Imagine a daily lunch that isn't spent eating microwaved food at your desk or rushed at a fast-food place but instead unfolds over the space of two hours, between 2 and 4 in the afternoon, spent in the company of friends and family. This lunch includes wine and good, local...
After battling jet lag and a formidable language barrier, conquering a few annoying ailments, getting scammed at an ATM, being yelled at by an indignant Catalan waiter, and finding ourselves in the middle of a street protest, we could have called our honeymoon a disaster. We could have moped around...
Previously on the blog, I mentioned that you really shouldn't miss the inside of La Segrada Familia, no matter what guidebooks might tell you. Gaudi's amazing feat of spiritual architecture alone is worth a trip to Barcelona. The view inside moved me to tears. Unashamed, streaming tears of joy and...
I'm part of a group of women who meet every other week to discuss spiritual matters and support each other in the world. We're new and still defining what we are, but we use the word "sangha." Google that word, and you get a lot of hits about Buddhist monastic...
This is not your grandmother's church. (Unless, of course, your grandmother is like the character in my novel Cat in the Flock, which one reviewer called a "Seattle-style Shirley McClaine." Granny Grace would be all over this place.) Barcelona's, and one of Spain's, most celebrated artists, Antoni Gaudi, is largely...