Hestia and the Art of Staying Strangely Sane

Hestia shook her head. "I am here because when all else fails, when all the other mighty gods have gone off to war, I am all that's left. Home. Hearth. I am the last Olympian".  (rick riordan)

One fire, many campfires. 

I have been asked by a dear friend to speak on the radio on the subject of the domestic arts.

I'm still mulling what sort of useful comments I might have to contribute. I suspect the Arts are all the same in that there are no rules, and one need only follow one's own impulses, but it sure helps to have learned one's scales, 

to make good use of what's on hand,

to be still, and mind the sentinels, 

to reap the many benefits of wintering

and summering, 

 of family, friends, and offerings,

 

And surely it can't ever hurt 

to suddenly stop at the curve of the earth, 

to wander at dusk and and widen the girth,

to have a clean, well lit kind of mirth,

to leave the door ajar for the dark, 

to know the world irrational, and mythical 

and silent, and invisible. 

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