The summer days roll along.
They have that quality about them, that is so much a part of what summer is,
to me.
The juxtaposition between opposites, being both lazy
and busy
hot and sweet,
disconnect and connect.
My days are so full, with kids and art, and company,
with trips and travels, and moments of quiet on the water, just watching the world swirl by.
I am rarely inside, always outside. Dinner comes later and later, and lunch becomes the bigger meal of the day.
My daughter is my shadow.
In ways both good and bad, this is a blessing.
She has kept me filled with laughter, and creative sparks,
She entertains and enlightens.
She also distracts me, interrupts my thought processes, and more often than not ...exhausts me.
in the proverbial words of wisdom
It is What it is.
( or what I make it…)
I have not walked my labyrinth often, or with any regularity.
It is difficult to walk it with her constant stream of consciousness being orally set forth in my close proximity.
Harder still when she wants to walk it with me, or when there is company.
However my Labyrinth is my grounding point.
My deep connection with self and with my faith in something greater than myself.
So when a dozen crows and a Hawk, ( my beloved and intrepid visitor) got into a loud ruckus in it , I sailed off to it to see what was happening.
Crows are scavengers, and can be pesky birds of a good deal of cunning.
It would seem that they raided the hawks nest and absconded with a couple of her eggs.
She was not amused.
I have discovered that there is little we, as humans can do in this situation.
I could not get the eggs back into the treetops to her nest. There are no close rehabs that take eggs,
and it is VERY illegal to try and do anything with these little ones.
It made me deeply sad, and resonated within me this strong urge that I have had to keep safe my little ones from harm.
Unlike the hawk whose hormones will diminish in days and allow her to move along with out regrets,
My heart will carry a bit of sorrow, and I will tend to my little ones with even more vigilance.
Nature is not a gentle Goddess, but one of order and balance.
On summer days
The best of me…
I stood there waiting for her, as if by the sheer force of my will I could have her come walking down the street towards me.
She and I have not stood on this corner in almost 30 years.
How many times we walked, in the freezing snow, the hot sun, and driving rain.
Walked talking or in silence, just so happy to be side by side.
to be together and away from the insanity of our family life.
Walked to the coffee shop, and sat over steaming mugs
sharing our words, and thoughts,
days and dreams.
I was standing there yesterday, wishing she was there too.
I was there for the usual family shenanigans, and wisely she stays far away.
She has been the best part of my life,
she has been sister, daughter, friend, love and light in my life.
She has loved me even when I have been at my most unlovablest.
My beloved has taught me so very much.
Some of my hardest lessons have come thru her. When I have wanted to vilify and crucify those that have hurt her, she gently asks me not to.
Her compassion, and her ability to let things go, has always amazed me.
She chooses so wisely what she will carry and what she discards.
She hears me, when my words are a jumbled mess of emotion and I am not sure which way is up, she hears my heart and comforts me.
There is a bond between us, so that even as I stood there, on that corner thousands of miles from her side, she heard me.
So when my phone rings and it’s her, I am never surprised, just so grateful that she is here
in my life.
I am so amazed that she puts up with me and mine, she is a consistent and constant as the sun. Rolling with my crazy kids, who love and terrify her, putting up with my sporadic correspondence, and haptic phone calls, her love is the air I breath, and I would be so lost with out her.
I am so very blessed that she is here with me,
in spirit
thought and essence
every day of my life.
She brings out the best in me,
and loves me
almost as much as I love her.
~smile~
Shrink wrapped English Cucumbers
On the way home from an arduous day, I decided to treat myself to going to one of those nifty world market type grocers.
Not my usual style, but I was low on milk, and
inquisitive.
Always fun to look at all those fruits and vegies from around the globe.
Thats when I saw them..
English cucumbers.
My dearest FireByrd after staring at this thing in appalled amazement, All things became clear.
I Of course I purchased it
( I know I didn’t get my moneys worth, but I was curious)
I keep looking at it.
It’s so skinny..
Not like the thick robust cucumbers we have here.
It’s kinda flaccid, I mean I am bending it back and forth, wondering if it was ever firm?
Not like the ones I have rock hard, rigid.
The ends of it are kinda pointy and really useless. I think you would have to just cut them off and toss them.
The ones here in America are smooth and rounded over ,the best first bite ever!
It’s so soft and slimy smooth? where is the bumps and ridges? all the texture?
What is with the length? are all English cucumbers this short and stubby? I mean this wouldn’t satisfy even one salad, let alone a weeks worth.
Does your salad shooter even know when it’s in there with the carrots?
How spoiled I am that I get to savor each mouthful of a single cucumber for weeks on end.
Seeds? are there any seeds in this thing at all? How in the world do you export these when they must be in short supply over there? Seriously, how can you propagate them with out seeds? I want a cucumber that when I bite into it,
my mouth is full of seeds! seriously! thats the best tasting part!
TASTE? did I mention taste? This english cucumber tastes like the plastic wrap it came in,
yum.
How I miss the fool bodied flavor of the American cucumber that has been warmed by the sun on the furrows of my garden.
Darling Byrd, I now completely understand that look of wonder on your face when you held up
with both hands
that lovely cucumber from my garden.
I’m sorry gal, really I am. I guess it’s true, we do everything BIG over here on the other side of the pond, even our cucumbers.
