I have been heartsick listening to the news. It is difficult to bear the waiting. For no good anything. I wonder if you are feeling this way too. Come with me. We will find some places to hide for a bit. Amongst the rainbow Swiss chard in the late-afternoon-dipping-to-the-mountain sunshine.
Or we could gather under the late planted sunflowers, finally getting ready to open their sentimental faces to the September sky. I will be reminded that every day is a blessing when they bloom.
I have found shelter in the comfort of house guests; friends and family alike. They have come from near and far, and soak up the peace of this place while they are here.
I have read some wonderful books this summer...they are another great place to hide. I have been taking A Life in Stitches, by Rachael Herron to the laundromat with me. Her sweet book, filled with short stories, "knitting my way through love, loss and laughter" was recommended by Anne at My Giant Strawberry via her Instagram account. It is a gem and I recommend it to you.
I found The Language of Flowers and The Snow Child via Alicia's lovely blog, Posy Gets Cozy. You may remember her as the creator of sweet Miss Maggie bunny. Both of these books were a treat, that transported me for afternoons at a time.
Have you read An Everlasting Meal by Tamar Adler? Bobbie Lewin and I were reading it at the same time and we both raved about it. If you like to garden, cook and eat locally/carefully, this is a must read! It will open a whole new way of being in the kitchen for you.
I have Neil Young's autobiography on my bedside table and read a few chapters at night. It is rambling, quirky and inspiring all at the same time. He is one of my favorite musicians of all time and so I am really enjoying it. The title is Waging Heavy Peace, A Hippie Dream. Perfect for a summer fraught with peril.
My sewing machine has provided another hiding place. I wish you could pull up a chair. I would brew you a cup of tea and we could chat while I stitch. Maybe you would have your own sewing to do, or knitting, or crochet. We could forge ahead with projects, as folks have for years and years, stitching hope and calm and intention into each moment. A project that has been languishing this past month got hours of attention today, and it felt dang good to connect with my machine again. My Bernina and I have been friends for years, and I turn to her for solace. You can read about her here.
So, dearest readers, let us hold our fragile world close to our hearts, and send hope out to those who sit in places of power and to those who have none as well.