It seems somehow ominous that the launch for BLACKBIRD AND THE SNOW occurs on BLACK FRIDAY. But then again, given the name of the jewellery line, it could be perfect. Or, it will be perfect . . . if it snows. This day marks the launch of the website, the first two print ads - (Daily Camera and Boulder Magazine), and BLACKBIRD pieces being placed in a retail store, (my first): MAX.
In celebration of my launch, I wanted to tell you all a story that is related to Blackbirds and also snow. . .
A couple of weeks ago, as the first snow started to fall, I came home, at dusk, to my cottage at the foot of the Rockies. As I was walking up the stairs and into the front yard, I heard some rustling . . . and then saw the most enormous beast-from-the-underworld, as it jumped over the fence, from my yard into the yard next door. From the glimpse that I got of the beast's ten foot tail trailing over the fence, I knew that I had encountered a mountain lion. After I got over the initial shock, I do what many modern, independent women would do in the same situation: I called my boyfriend. After some investigation, the boyfriend uncovered this morsel of information: 'In order to keep a mountain lion off of your property, it's helpful to douse rags in ammonia and place these rags around the periphery'. (If you would like to know more about this tidbit, I'm afraid you're going to have to look it up. . . )
The next morning, my man took a bag of old sox, doused them in ammonia and placed them around the property. In the process of doing this, he found the mountain lion's 'cache' - the place where the beast hides it's kill . . . in order to come back and feed (!) The location of the cache was given away by an 'unkindness' of huge, dark birds, circling over the carcass buffet.
As you might imagine, I was feeling quite on edge for the next few days - but also curious; I wanted to see the cache. I decided to venture over to the carcass area. What I saw surprised me: near the cache, caught on the fence, were the two most beautiful blackbird feathers that I have ever seen; they were extremely luminous and dark - and each as long as my hand. I figured that they must have fallen from the wings of the dark, circling birds - or else they were the remains of yet another mountain lion casualty...
I really wanted those feathers - for a hat, or for the windowsill, or to put on a present; I don't exactly know why, I just know that I wanted those feathers.
When my boyfriend got home, I told him about the feathers and asked whether he might go into the lion's lair for me and bring back the prize. He wasn't extremely excited about this, but it was a slightly better mission than distributing ammonia sox around the property.
The next morning, he entered the cache area . . . and then he came back out - without the feathers.
(Where are my feathers)
Um, babe?' he said
(Where are my feathers) 'Yes'?
'Those aren't feathers, those are a pair of black, (ammonia soaked), sox.'
Welcome to my world.
Welcome to Blackbird and the Snow.