Mint Tea and Visitors

Red Brocade

The Arabs used to say,

When a stranger appears at your door,

feed him for three days

before asking who he is,

where he’s come from,

where he’s headed.

That way, he’ll have strength

enough to answer.

Or, by then you’ll be

such good friends

you don’t care.

Let’s go back to that.

Rice? Pine Nuts?

Here, take the red brocade pillow.

My child will serve water

to your horse.

No, I was not busy when you came!

I was not preparing to be busy.

That’s the armor everyone put on

to pretend they had a purpose

in the world.

I refuse to be claimed.

Your plate is waiting.

We will snip fresh mint

into your tea.

-Naomi Shihab Nye

Not A Yard Sale Yard Sale

My city makes it very difficult to have a yard sale. As a result, there is no yard sale culture. Too bad, I had some great Anthropologie clothes...Tons of plants, could, not give them away! Can't wait to head north.

Seasons In The Sun

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Resting & Packing

I have been hit hard by illness. I feel weak & woozy. Packing up while healing from pneumonia is difficult at best. I have been spending a lot of time in this chair under the pomegranate tree while Merry frolics in the berry patches. I really wish she would wait until they are ripe, but alas, we will not be here when the raspberries ripen, so she might as well enjoy the hunt now. Any thoughts on raising chickens with a Beagle? Hoping to raise some lady birds, but heard Beagles think they are snacks...

Ode To The Sweet Pea

I am going to pick each and everyone of you until the day I leave. I will sleep with you at my nose each night, and remember the balmy spring nights of May...in The City Of Angels.

Packing it up

and moving it north. To the land drenched in salty, sweet water from the mountains, the streams, the oceans and rivers. I can't wait. Big yard sale. Funky stuff. I am trying to let it all go. Except for the books and the fabric and the vintage tablecloths and the art supplies. The rest goes. Really.

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Thank you to all of the mommies that let us go...

and keep us close.

The only steps that matter are the steps we take all by ourselves...

Library Hall

I love books. The smell. The illustrations. All books. I sometimes joke that I should not be allowed into a used bookstore...That being said, I am constantly trying to discover new ways in which to store my little loves. This is the latest. Color coded, satisfies so many of my heart's desires.

Our new house, affectionately named "The Alberta Hen House," has a funny little hall, well, leading nowhere. The previous owners put a lovely window in this narrow hall, which now makes this funny little hall the...LIBRARY. I have a library. It is narrow and short, but it has a window. Soon it will have a comfy chair, an old lamp and table on which to set my tea.

If you need me, I'll be in the library. Reading. And sipping. And watching Merry play in her new yard.

Miss Most

Of all of my possessions, the one thing I would miss most of all...it would be my clothesline. I love my clothesline. My children and I painted them pink and decorated them with vines and fairies and flying insects. Their clothes have grown on this line...from tiny to very, very tall. And flowy.

Under a canopy of saris, my daughter celebrated the moon beneath this clothesline. I love my clothesline.

At The Shore

We are at the shore. The air is cool and clean. I could the feel shift as we zoomed down the freeway, down went the windows, out flew the arms. Ahhh, clean, sweet ocean air. Lots going on in this life of mine. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Me. Not you. But you should probably breathe too. That Ole' Mercury is spinning the wrong way again. Argh.

Home

We are home after a long week in Portland, job hunting, grueling interviews, house hunting. It took it's toll on me. Fever, chills, aches, and I was so happy to come home and see my boy and Miss Merry, The Wonder Beagle. Neither were too upset at us for being gone so long.

Still it is nice to be home, for as long as this is home.