WHO. IS. THE. ELF?!

Photo copyright Aji, 2015; all rights reserved.

We almost didn't go into town today. Too much to do, and I have a migraine anyway. But She-Wolf needed her diabetic kibble to last her through the holiday weekend, and so we piled into the truck to run errands.

After the vet's we headed to the post office; I waited in the truck while Wings went inside to check the box. He came out loaded down with two Amazon boxes, one small one that was something we'd ordered (and had to re-order, as the first one was missing a crucial component); the other was enormous, and we pegged it for a bag of dog food from our wish list.

It was that [gestures toward photo, above]. Also from our wish list, but with no notification, and no card included to let us know who it's from. But it came just in time: That return? The item missing a component? Tomorrow was the last day to print the mailing label that would prevent us from having to pay for the return shipping ourselves.

The label is printed.

To Santa's elf, whomever you are, thank you from the bottom of my heart.


All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

Rockin' Mocs

Photo copyright Wings, 2015; all rights reserved.

One year when things were pretty rough, I made myself write down, every single day, a gift I received. It was usually an intangible, like a sunset, or maybe kicking out a piece of writing that needed to be done. Rarely was it a thing, something you could touch and hold in your hands (or wear on your feet, as the case may be).

Today, though, it's an actual thing — or, rather, a pair of things.

And they were an honest-to-god gift. I've known they were coming; it's been in the works for a while. But today was the day I actually received them. And I feel really blessed right now.

My old moccasins were thoroughly worn out. Oh, I could still use them in an absolute emergency, but for ordinary wear? Forget about it. And they were very utilitarian ones, albeit extremely lightweight.

These? These are exactly what I wanted. They're utilitarian, too — moosehide, extremely heavy and warm. The man who made them, a real traditional Native man, an expert in leatherwork who knows his way around moccasins of all kinds, told me he broke several needles on them. It's the kind of hide our people used for steady and/or winter wear.

They beadwork is in exactly the colors I wanted. People who know me will know why, if they put it together. These are the real McCoy, as Wings would say — and I'll rock 'em until they fall off my feet, years down the road.

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

Mine.

Photo copyright Wings, 2014; all rights reserved.

All mine.

Just because.

Well, he amended that to say that it's because he loves me (true); because I work so hard and do so much (also true); because I love him and take care of him (very definitely true). 

But really, that's all "just because." He gave them to me last night, just out of the blue.

Reason #1,957,428 why I love this man.

Gifts of a Namesake

Photo copyright Wings, 2014; all rights reserved.

As though today's winter weather weren't blessing enough, another gift visited us this evening.

We were finishing up the evening chores — feeding horses, dogs, and chickens; making sure everyone has water; draining the hoses so they don't freeze; bringing the dog beds inside; all the other things that need doing every single night. I was taking the snow shovel up to the house to clean off the entry when I heard a familiar sound.

It's a sound that's unmistakable: a flock of sandhill cranes talking to each other as they fly in formation. They come from behind the peaks to the north, usually a flock or two, once in the spring. They're early this year; climate change again.

As in the past, they've circled around partway once they get directly overhead, as if to dip their wings and raise their beautiful voices in greeting to me, their much-lesser namesake, before flying onward on their migratory route.

Ajijaakwag. The Echo-Makers.

A beautiful and unexpected gift.

Copyright Ajijaakwe, 2014; all rights reserved.