I swore my purchased house would have a porch, and a fireplace, but of course it does not and won't. And it turns out I do not like people all that much, so my backyard is my hang. And a glider next to a firepit, amongst overgrown beds that desperately need weeding and other forms of management, but I cannot, these past few years. So, a version, and I am grateful too for this.
When life turns to open up for entertainment again, I know you will be serving some very very lucky people, some biscuits and cake. Nourishment and shelter, I guarantee.
Thank you for this photo and all of your words, always. This week's grief is different, still a loaded serrated knife to the heart and gut, but also changed the landscape with new facts--and I need to do some more work to figure it out. Even though it was a backdrop/scenery change that I well knew was already painted and waiting off stage, it still knocked the wind out. I saw a statistic that 66 out of 70 appointments at a clinic in madison were canceled friday morning, so even though no names or faces I could hold for care, I can multiply that by thousands and know of all the humans with very immediate needs in states like mine with insecure laws, desperate after having this very important rug pulled out beneath them, so very close and so very far.
I haven’t read Belonging yet– but will. I always appreciate bell hooks’ uncovering of layers. Always showing me an extra sheet (or twenty) between the blanket and the mattress pad. And I am so glad for your nest! Right now we have a nest of barn swallows right outside my current restaurant’s back door, and there are, or were yesterday, maybe 6? squished little faces poking up in unison demanding food. It is a privilege to witness.
And, I have never seen “glean” and “peace” together. That that is a possiblity, is so very powerful Monica! Peace feels so rare and like something that must be bestowed. Or magically discovered. But to think that we can glean peace? There is a light, there. I wish you many many peaceful times on that porch.
I swore my purchased house would have a porch, and a fireplace, but of course it does not and won't. And it turns out I do not like people all that much, so my backyard is my hang. And a glider next to a firepit, amongst overgrown beds that desperately need weeding and other forms of management, but I cannot, these past few years. So, a version, and I am grateful too for this.
When life turns to open up for entertainment again, I know you will be serving some very very lucky people, some biscuits and cake. Nourishment and shelter, I guarantee.
Thank you for this photo and all of your words, always. This week's grief is different, still a loaded serrated knife to the heart and gut, but also changed the landscape with new facts--and I need to do some more work to figure it out. Even though it was a backdrop/scenery change that I well knew was already painted and waiting off stage, it still knocked the wind out. I saw a statistic that 66 out of 70 appointments at a clinic in madison were canceled friday morning, so even though no names or faces I could hold for care, I can multiply that by thousands and know of all the humans with very immediate needs in states like mine with insecure laws, desperate after having this very important rug pulled out beneath them, so very close and so very far.
I haven’t read Belonging yet– but will. I always appreciate bell hooks’ uncovering of layers. Always showing me an extra sheet (or twenty) between the blanket and the mattress pad. And I am so glad for your nest! Right now we have a nest of barn swallows right outside my current restaurant’s back door, and there are, or were yesterday, maybe 6? squished little faces poking up in unison demanding food. It is a privilege to witness.
And, I have never seen “glean” and “peace” together. That that is a possiblity, is so very powerful Monica! Peace feels so rare and like something that must be bestowed. Or magically discovered. But to think that we can glean peace? There is a light, there. I wish you many many peaceful times on that porch.