10 April 2009
A quiet week
Monday—April 6th—brought me a sunny little seven-year-old knocking on my door, holding out a squished fistful of pretty yellow harvested from my own front yard. Have you noticed that all it takes to turn a weed into a flower is for a loving child to pick and offer it? My sweet neighbor's honorable bouquet and her shy but eager hug gave me some needed strength.
Because April 6th is a a special date to me, I chose that evening, after our FHE, to take care of a Life Errand, something that I've been needing and wanting to do for a long time. Rob went with me and we sought out a favorite tree of mine, the one I was sitting beneath once when I saw the Grim Reaper making his way down the street and I actually laughed at him. (Have I told that story yet?)
(Seems ironic: I was the one in the cemetery, sitting on the tree's roots so long I felt I might turn into a granite statue, and fit right in with the other headstones. The Grim Reaper was in the middle of the road and doggedly stuck to the striped white line like he owned it, on the other side of the fence. I suppose he might actually own it, come to think of it. That's certainly where he picks up a lot of careless customers.)
I left a small piece of the past in this place, entrusted it to the care of this tree that's been around a long time. It's seen some things. It knows. Rob was with me when I laid down a token of a heartache that needs to be put to rest. I couldn't think of a better place or a more watchful guard. When the weather warms a bit more I will love sometimes to go and sit with my tree again, with turned thoughts.
Monday night I started a batch of horchata soaking. Tuesday I spent all morning finishing it (next time I will buy the cheesecloth instead of cheaping out and trying to strain the rice sludge through a flour sack towel) and shared it with lovely Wendy. Missed by a hair getting mashed by another big truck (not my fault!) on the way home and most of what was left of the horchata in the uncovered pitcher responded, true to the laws of physics, by soaking the dog car and a couple of library books. At least I had enough left to let Rob have a glassful with dinner.
Dried horchata residue looks simultaneously like a tree of life and a really big tongue.
Photo by Tony Randell, licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution ShareAlike 2.0 License.
Wednesday I didn't take my Project 365 photo because I never could get my camera trained fast enough on the one subject that entertained me all day—a bold, beautiful scrub jay who's taken up residence at our house. I love these birds. They seem to choose favorite places to haunt, and not long ago when I was out walking in the 'hood, I noticed one of those houses, and started wishing for some blue birdy company. Interesting factoid: unlike many other species, scrub jays share their color equally between male and female. Both get to be bright. And bright they are, in multiple ways. Jays are so smart! My new friend hung around near the feeder and in the side yard for hours, and at one point stood in the center of my kitchen windowsill and stared me in the face in the most delightfully cheeky way. I hope he/she/(they) will stick around.
Thursday I did not go to the Jehovah's Witnesses' commemoration of the Last Supper. I did think about it though. Have I mentioned that I have been adopted as a project by a wonderful 17-year-old JW missionary girl? I really really like her, and suggested we do a cultural exchange where I go to her meetin' and she comes to hear me sing (while safely drowned out by real choir voices) at my church on Easter Sunday. She wasn't comfortable, and me, I just had to work late.
Today I had the great pleasure of offering some heartfelt birthday wishes . . .
. . . and also receiving some early birthday love.
After a ladies' lunch, I spent the rest of the day and night printing for my cousin and cousin-to-be while I listened to a favorite podcast. Over and over I made these words appear along with a suite of invitation pieces. That sums up well how I'm feeling right now: Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.