Feels good to put up
my feet; it will probably feel even better to jot this out and try to sleep.
Scotch is entertaining herself until I crash and put out the lights. Although
all three kittehs have similar collars and bells, I can always tell when it is
Scotch headed down the hall. She thinks she needs to explore the top of my
dresser for some reason, perhaps to admire herself in the mirror.
I did not sleep well
last night, but managed to make it through most of the day. Patience is
difficult to hang on to when I am particularly tired. Like a child, my mother
asks obvious and lame questions a fair amount of the time. When I am not awake
and moving on all fours, I have tendency to be very sarcastic.
I was sorry I was
snappish and judgmental with her. I picked some marigolds and daisies and left
them on her dresser.
I had a busy day
cooking. The housecleaner was supposed to come but forgot. I was a little glad
as I was in the mood to tackle some culinary tasks: using up the pears,
roasting the butternut squash on the counter, making chicken stock and lentil
soup. That’s a lot, right? I even got every thing in the fridge and did all the
dishes. Most of the pears ended up in a pear tart kind of thing. There are some
for making pear sauce tomorrow.
Emmylou, Scotch, and I
hung around in the garden for a bit. I repotted some succulents while I spoke
to KMH on the telephone. It’s great gardening weather. Hopefully, I will get
some seeds going in the next couple of days. I included Tuscan squash in the
lentil soup.
I PROFESS THE UNCERTAIN
I profess the uncertain
with gratitude
a man with large hands
and large feet
first looks at a pencil
then bring it close to his ear
he listens
the day lives briefly
unscented
skaken with worn-heel glimpses
becomes a shambling palace
with walking fishes
a yellow-roofed kindness
the almost untenable premise
that between counting one and two
nothing is lost.
— Jane Hirschfield, The Beauty, Knopf, 2015
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