just a few more days...

it's 99.99% empty, 

this vessel of many of our family's growing years.

it offered such warm and welcoming shelter.

 the consensus is strong

that what comes next is filled with possibility.

what a fine way to leave a place...

deeply grateful and without regret.

xo

  

these are the strangest of days

Henry has been my faithful co-pilot these many years of commuting back and forth between CT and VT. I promised him today that this would be his next-to-last interstate ride, and that soon we will call Vermont home.

My life has never felt quite so in between. All of my usual strategies for being centered are paling in the face of all of this disruption. 

So I am cultivating being present big time.

One day it was nearly 70 degrees and my feet said ahhhhhhhh as I slid them into my trusty Birkenstock sandals. I do not think there is a better place for my feet to be.

But the very next day we woke to snow on the ground.

Sometimes I eat squeaky clean foods and sometimes I just don't.

And I am not sleeping well, so my meditation practice has moved into the wee hours of the morning when I am tossing and turning.

April is National Poetry Month, and that is helping. Refuge in words. Yes. I go there often.

Someday soon all of this transition will be done. And we will be here. Just here. 

And that, my friends, will be awesome.

life at warp speed

I was out at Earlham College last week and was delighted to be invited to speak with a group of current students about the role of making in my life. I visited Nancy Taylor's Art Cloth course and showed a slide show of some of my work. I had never done anything like this before and I felt both excited and vulnerable. Of course, in typical Earlham style I was warmly received and put at ease right away. Other than a few slide show glitchy things, I think I did an OK job. Looking back at my life through the lens of making was eye opening for me and I think I may want to work on it some more, in a more formal way. Not sure how that will happen, but I am intrigued.  

I love the time I spend on campus, because it is filled with what matters most to my heart. Earlham, like many small liberal arts colleges struggles to meet the challenges of modern life, but its mission remains strong. Recent and exciting innovations to programming will enable students to step out into the world with real life skills and confidence. Our graduates are people that our world desperately needs. For me, catching up with professors, current students and old friends just makes the work all the sweeter. 

Flying back to La Guardia was a treat as well. As we descended into the New York area we flew right up the Hudson River. I waved to Gretta in Brooklyn, and watched the late afternoon sunshine flash off of the Freedom Tower, the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building. Central Park was filled with tiny, tiny people out in a glorious spring afternoon, and I could see the tress blooming in pinks and whites. Since I will most likely be flying in and out of Burlington from now on this was an especially fine farewell.

On Sunday morning Batman and I drove to Brooklyn to deliver a box to Gretta and Ben. As we consolidate our two kitchens we put duplicates in a box for their apartment. Lunch, a walk in Prospect Park (filled with magnolia blooms, on osprey sighting and dogs, dogs, dogs) and a good visit and then we were back in CT by late afternoon. 

Always on the lookout for inspiration, I noticed this Prospect Park patchwork pattern right under our feet.

The days are flying and I feel the pull to have "one last lunch" or "one last walk" with friends here in CT, but we remind one another that we won't be so far away and I will be back for meetings and to visit Hannah. The house here is ghostly, with all but the biggest furniture already moved to Vermont. A set of 8 dining chairs flew out the door via Freecycle this weekend. Change of address postcards sit in a stack on the counter, the dining table is covered with packing materials and the houseplants will go to Vermont in the next trip.

We are in the midst of a crazy real estate glitch that is working itself out, and some day we will be able to laugh about it, but for about a week it was a living nightmare. Maybe sometime this summer, when I'm on the other side of it I'll tell you all about it. 

I have missed reading many of your blogs and look forward to catching up with them today, as I have a free and clear day with no obligations. Sending you all good cheer and best wishes on this gorgeous spring day!

In CT.

spring ghosts

My dad's spirit manifests every spring in the song of the spring peepers.

I hear his voice this afternoon.

In CT

• a page from a thrifted "little golden book"
• the twittering and swooping and exuberance of a flock of robins
• a windblown nest
• budding trees against a bright blue sky

With a foot and a half of snow still on the ground and chilly temps, spring is elusive here in Vermont this year. But the birdsong, the steam coming from the vents at the sugarhouses and the gurgle and drip of snow and ice melting everywhere proves that it is on its way.

In our busyness of these past few weeks, I did not check in with all of you Kooser fans. How much did you love that last poem on the vernal equinox? This morning the sun stood right at the end of the road and waited for me.

In VT.