Hubby says, “I’m going to party like it’s 8:39”. That’s in pm. We are feeling this Friday.
It was a good day. I got to see one of my bestest friends. I love her dearly like a sister. We’ve been through storms together and now we both have baby/toddlers at the same time. It’s been wonderful to have her back in our hometown.
Indigo had a mild day though he screamed down the Kiva, a local natural grocer. Which in our home town is a right of passage for most kids here.
We went to both of our co-op grocers too. Both hold love and care and magic for us. Thank you Lilly for the connection, always.
We visited a local artist and friend Sarah Ciampa and purchased a piece. I’m so excited to receive and gift this art to someone special in my life.
We visited another local artist and friend but it was only a drop off. We need Indigo’s amber necklace repaired and who better to do that than Maya Rabasa of Casa Rabasa?!
We had a beer and some food at Sam Bonds and ran into some sweet community members.
I’m so glad Indigo has you all to lean on and be with through it all. Growing up is hard to do!
Seven years ago today I was awaiting my “friend’s” return from a visit with his son who lives very North of us, an all day trip there and back.
He told me in a text message that he had something he wanted to discuss with me when he got back. He came straight from the road trip to my house. It was late afternoon, we walked to go pick up my son from daycare, we were holding hands walking by a huge patch of clover when he said, “I decided that I love you…” I don’t really remember the rest because my head filled with possibilities and dreams. The rest of the night was magical.
Later I found out that at that time a friend was giving birth. In a way so were me and my now hubby.
We call this day our Love-a-versary. It represents a time when we committed to love and the act of loving without much of a plan, just loving each other.
Pregnant and stagnant in my days, I awake to the unrivaled beauty of the sound of rain. I feel all the bad days of Summer have been washed away. The spring of the future is being refreshed. Possibilities are being fed. I know I will not feel this amount of gratitude for the rain all the months to come so I’m enjoying the joy now. (However, always grateful)
Born and bred in the Pacific Northwest, I feel a kinship to the rain. This is life here. We gear up for it and it is apart a part of our days for most of the year. We use it and abuse it. We ride in it, celebrate it and cry in it. It is in our thoughts, our curses, our blood, our souls.
When it rains here, there are times when you can feel every drop hit your bones and trickle through your marrow. Sending icy shivers and contempt through the body only to be soothed by a hot cuppa and a conversation with a good friend or a good book.
I read Paul Harding, Tinkers. I sip my morning cuppa tea. I eat my muffin with cream cheese. I contemplate my hours before the noise returns.
Tinkers by Paul Harding
“There was an early January thaw and it had been raining all day, but just before sunset the storm clouds passed and it rained only in the trees. Steam lifted off of the snow. Trees stood half in light, half in shadow as the sun lowered and striped the world in weave half of itself, half of the approaching evening.”
I was contemplating “normal” today and what that must be like.
Normal people probably don’t hang their clothes in the main area of their homes. Normal people probably don’t spontaneously bake Pear Raspberry crisp after 8pm with their hubby. Normal people probably don’t eat and drink wild things. Normal people probably aren’t “wild things”.
Ok, normal Americans probably don’t do these things. I’m painfully aware of my left side of normal American oddities.
Then my husband walks into the room today, I’m perusing blogs, and he says to me, “Do you know that I need your strength.”
I look into those dark chocolate brown eyes of his, “No. I didn’t know that or at least I thought I needed yours more.”
I let go of the thought of being “normal” once more. I don’t really need it.
June 20th 2012, Summer Solstice at Mt. Pisgah main trail. Seriously getting vertical y’all!
Peace, love and the left side of normal American oddities.