Postcards from Summer ~ Sunday, the 29th of June

Thoughts on Sunday night:

~  I finished sewing covers for a few throw pillows for the porch glider. I'm enjoying the adult seating space on     the screen porch now that school is not in session. It's looking like I'll be good and spoiled come late August when it's time to turn our home back into a schoolhouse. C'est la vie. 

~  Beatrix and a couple of her buddies harvested three ears of corn the other day. For dinner last night we had corn on the cob with our BLT's (and we picniced on the screen porch, of course). We might get to harvest a few more ears of corn soon. And that is how my garden rolls around here. There is something worthy to say about modern times and the luxury that is the grocery store. At the rate that we grow real, substantial, consumable food, it is as if I only pretend to garden - it's like my playtime. "Let's pretend to plant seeds, and water, and grow some food."  Which, now that I think about it, could not be a more correct statement when describing my gardening habits. C'est la vie.   

~   With the combination of not so boiling hot temps and the long days, we've been able to squeeze in nature walks after dinner. It's always so nice to get outside and listen to the quietness of the evening. I never, ever regret getting into the car, driving out to the woods, and walking. 

~   Alicia's post about cooking, reminded me to pull Apples for Jam off of my bookshelf. What an anchingly lovely read beyond being a great cookbook. I remember pouring through this one before I was a mother. Before we had adopted Beatrix.  Several years later, as much as the words meant to me then, they resonate with me even more deeply now.  This cookbook is about family, community, childhood, wonder, tender moments, growth, home, and everything wholesome and true and good in between. 

~   No matter how much gratitude I muster up about little and big things in life, I've come to the conclusion that there is a pocket of sadness and grief that always lingers in my being.  Sometimes, I can tuck it away neatly. And then there are many moments where I can only allow its presence and be with it. There is no will great enough to make it disappear.  It's an important part of who I am. It's the warp that helps to weave my story.

                                                          But gosh, it stings like a bee at times.  

~   Tonight, I had the sweet pleasure of hanging out with my mama friends at the park. They are such good bunch of women.  I'm so grateful for their friendship and support.  Upon pulling out of the park, I spotted a mama deer and her fawn sitting so peacefully in the orchard.   I veered over to the side of the road to take a picture with my camera, and of course, the mama deer stood up cautiously looking me over.   A few seconds later, her and her baby dashed off with the sun setting behind them.  It was just a brief, beautiful, ordinary, yet magic moment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[Brandy]

My daughter would just love that stick unicorn Bea has. :-) I was just reading Alicia's post before I came here and it made me so hungry. She makes food look so good.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

~Wordworth

[Nichole]

I just realized that I never thanked you for the Wordsworth, Brandy. Thank you! What lovely and succinct and true words. And we all know just how strong silk is. XO, Nichole