Wednesday, November 4, 2020

Positively rich.

Photo copyright Aji, 2020; all rights reserved.

What a half-hog share looks like. When I said we had something to do offline yesterday, this was what I meant. It's something we've wanted to do for many, many years, but until the last year or so, we didn't have the space for it anyway. But we had one Lowe's card left from the house construction, and we used it to get their smallest, least expensive Hotpoint chest freezer, which now sits in Wings's studio. And several months ago, when we were still able to afford it, we put some money aside and ordered a half-hog share from some folks an hour and a half north of us in southern Colorado. They're a family operation, and their prices are much less expensive than anyone locally, but the pandemic has absolutely slammed them with orders, so even though we paid in advance, we knew it would be several months before we could pick it up.

That day was yesterday. And for a kid who grew up poor and hungry? That full freezer meant that I felt positively rich last night. Enough to make me cry. [We also had bacon and eggs for dinner with some of the bacon from the order, and it's the best bacon we've ever had.]

I was also advised just a bit ago that we've had some other good news, so I'm no longer worrying about covering the regular November expenses. We'll be able to cover the hay for the horses, and possibly get the plumbing handled in the next week or two, maybe more.

When I got up at dawn yesterday morning, the Steller's jay had returned. I thought then that it was a good sign, and after such a beautiful day yesterday, that seemed accurate . . . until the results (and non-results) started rolling in. We have both had to numb ourselves to any eventuality, because knowing that we and ours are among the first targets, our sanity, to say nothing of our ability to fight, depend on it.

And as grateful as we are for our current blessings, we also know that real winter hasn't even arrived yet, and it will be a long one. Among the new cases locally are one or more at IHS, and apparently the clinic is closed and people are quarantined. There has been zero movement on the steps that MUST be taken to arrest this, and ski season opens in three weeks. If they allow tourists in, unquarantined, our local numbers are going to be deadly indeed. Meanwhile, the economy is wrecked already, and the number of people who need help climbs by the day.

This is all by way of saying that, blessings or no, I have still got to make consistent sales somehow, through the end of the year and beyond. In more ordinary years (long since gone now), our holiday sales alone carried us through the winter, the late winter/spring closure, and on toward summer. Those days are gone, and the closure is already here (and if not permanent, it's the next thing to it). We will still need to sell Wings's work regularly to make it. So please share the links, and if/when you're in the market for gorgeous, authentic, Spirit-infused Indigenous wearable art, Wings will have something perfect for you. The links are here:

Thanks.


All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2020; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

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