The Japanese maple still needs trimming. New chamomile has been planted. Many of you are buried in snow. Zuko is half asleep, facing the open front door, the sun highlighting his beautiful red curls.
I just pray you're well. This past year has brought such heartache to so many--to many who are dear to me--and I wish peace and beauty and healing would descend. Would not filter down, like a light, airy, Colorado snow, but would be hurdled from heaven in the type of dunking that you can't run from. An-almost violent show of love.
Just wanted to say hi. I'm working on picking up my phone when I don't want to. I'm challenging myself to pray for really hard things. And I'm accepting the menopausal, sleepless nights and getting to know lots of saints as I pray for my children at 2am, my friends at 3am, and my neighbors at 4. Typically I'm back to sleep at about 6am, which isn't at all convenient!
How are you, anyway? It's February, going on March. Of 2021. Can you believe it?! I'm just not tracking time very well anymore. I move from my office, where I spend so many hours editing and sometimes writing, to the kitchen for dried apricots and more tea, to a walk around the block. I guess lots of saints have become holy by just moving from their little hut to say hi to the guy next door, to pray in the chapel in the woods, and then they do it all again. I really do want to someday grab a little bit of holiness. I pray that I'm on the right road.
Last news. My husband is fully vaccinated (cause he volunteers at two different hospitals); my parents are half way there, and Zuko could care less about any of it. The birds, too. They whistle their way past all of the pandemic talk. They have recently befriended a scrub jay, and all they want is to be in coversation with the jay. They squawk one thing and the jay squawks something back. It's loud--it's probably about how they'd love to share a meal of peanuts together---not sure--but it's very charming. And meanwhile little towhees bounce around at the bottom of the parakeet's cage, not caring much that they've crossed the line into the house, and snitch all the seeds that Wafer and Wasabe have kicked out of their bowl.
I think I might go to the beach this afternoon for a walk.
Love to you all! Please feel free to write in the comments how you're doing, and if there's anything I could send to you--a letter, a book, a prayer...
Published: February 24, 2021 | Filed under: Me