Perhaps what makes a day perfect is a matter of personal preference; perhaps not. For me, key elements of a perfect day require that it starts slowly, builds spontaneously, flows effortlessly and timelessly, and ends with a sense of contentedness and fulfillment.

Today was such a day . . . It began around 6:30 AM with the first hint of daylight. The cloud shapes and colors of the clouds as they reflected first light drew me from my warm bed to stand by an open window to admire and photograph. Climbing back into bed, nestled by my two pups Simba Ndogo and Peetie I caught up on emails. At 8:30 AM we three headed downstairs for breakfast after which I put away dishes washed from the night before and caught up with news via Zite. A call from a friend and an unanticipated post-holiday lunch date was made. Another call with an invitation to stop by to meet a young puppy that friends are caring for over the holidays. A couple of unhurried hours later “the boys” — Simba and Peetie — and I head to Solvang for lunch. Next, we head to Ballard to see the puppy. . . cute, cute, cute . . . eat an “outrageous brownie” and in the process learn about the website Tastebook.com. A few errands later, we headed home. It is 5 PM.

After feeding “the boys”, I catch up with my friend Julie who lives on Kauai before starting tonight’s cooking project — split pea soup with ham. Multi-tasking, I polish off the last three homemade chicken tamales I helped my friend Peggy make last week, and watch the movie “The Holiday” while cooking. By 10 PM the soup is done, the movie is over, and the kitchen is cleaned up. 

Laying in bed with Simba draped over my legs and Peetie trying hard to share my pillow, a few emails are sent. Yes, I feel both contented and fulfilled before drifting off to sleep — a perfect day indeed!

Of all the great presents Simba, Peetie and I received for Christmas . . . by far the one that received the most attention is an amazingly durable stuffed dog toy from their cousin Cooper! They played keep away and tuggy with it, made it squeek and squeek (thankfully, it is not a high pitch squeek like so many dog toys), took naps with it, and Peetie even carried it upstairs to bed.

Thank you, Cooper!

My friends Joan and Mary Jane and I made an impromtu date to hike to Nojoqui Falls this afternoon from Classic Organic Farms. After a day of glorious rain, it was time to stretch our legs and that of our dogs. Mary Jane brought her lab Friday, Joan brought two of her four — Mika and Kayla, and I had my two Boxers Simba Ndogo and Peetie. Classic Organic Farms is on the old highway, which is now a country road that connects Hwy. 101 to Solvang, California via the picturesque Alisal Road. It is an easy three mile roundtrip walk that is generally free of traffic — except for today!

Pronounced Naw-ho-wee, the 164-foot falls flows just about year-round due to its geographic location in one of the rainiest parts of our Valley and a natural spring that feeds this paqarina or feminine expression of nature. There are two legends concerning the falls, which are named after a Native American Chumash village. The first tells of a terrible drought that caused the area great suffering. After the Chumash chief called upon the gods for assistance during an all-night ceremony, a beautiful woman appeared and led the chief to a fern-covered glen. Rising into the air, just as she was about to disappear her raiment turned into a glistening cascade of water and Nojoqui Falls was born and the drought was broken. The second story tells of a group of Chumash men and women that were caught in a furious storm. Upon taking shelter in a cave to wait out the tempest, they heard cries for help coming from outside. Only a beautiful young maiden had the courage to venture out and attempt a rescue. She returned with a warrior from another group who had been injured by a fallen tree. The warrior was taken back to the maiden’s village and during his convalescence he and the maiden fell in love, which was looked upon with great distaste by the other members of her tribe. Rumors of plots to do away with the warrior sent the young lovers fleeing together. Relentlessly pursued, they were eventually trapped at the top of Nojoqui Falls. Rather than be torn asunder, they chose to die together by leaping into the abyss.

While visiting the falls, I held a brief ceremony in memory of my beloved, Rick Hubbard, who passed elegantly between the veils of this world and the next four months ago. After opening sacred space, I disbursed some of his ashes at the base of the falls. Just as I began the ceremony, the skies gifted us with a gente rain that lasted throughout the night .  .  .

A very dear friend of mine, Cindy Owings, has finally convinced me to start a blog. She has been blogging at petuniagirl.com for several  years and finds great enjoyment and fulfillment in sending her musings out into the world. So, here goes . . . 

Yesterday was the Winter Solstice and I invited some friends to join me in ceremony. In the Andean tradition of shamanism I have been studying since 2000, the Winter Solstice signals a time of recapitulation and preparation — to bring conscious awareness to any unfinished business in order to choose what of that to bring into the new year and what to complete in that moment and leave behind. Similarly, it is a time to vision the qualities and experiences we want to attract into our life in the coming year. Together, my friends and I journeyed to the Lower World to “see” our pending engagements and to the Upper World to bring back a vision of our Becoming. Then we created a community despacho or offering to Spirit that held the energy of these experiences, which was later burned. Afterwards we celebrated with a communal feast of chicken with prunes, quinoa, salads and high calorie desserts . . . and lots and lots of wine — much of it made in our beloved Santa Ynez Valley!