Umbrella

It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring.

In the Berkshires

The river by the house is full, it pushes over fern and lily and soaks moss. There's the foundation of an old structure beside it, I follow the rectangle of stone, too small to have been a house. But maybe not. By the river, it's always verdant. The first time I saw it, I told my friend Karen that it was the perfect place for a wedding. She was seeing a man then with whom she believed herself to be in love. That was years ago. The river and leaves and foundation haven't changed.

This afternoon, I read a book called, "Fierce Attachments." A memoir about a mother and daughter, it made me think about how I have forgotten more than what I recall. I've a natural tendency to forget, which I attribute to a child's Christian training to forgive. But, in forgetting, I think I must hold onto some part of it, the shadow of the forgotten.

Summer?

Last night we had dinner outside. The men smoked cigars and the stars revealed and concealed themselves under a sheet of clouds. The laundry dried outside in the afternoon and in the garden optimists planted herbs and tomatoes It's easy to be an hopeful in spring.

Dinner

I am going to dinner tonight. I've painted my (short) nails red. I won't be late. I've mountains or work to do this weekend and am looking forward to every bit of it!

Spring Break

I took the kids away to a cabin for the week. We went to the library and walked in the woods every day. They made friends with some local kids and we felt normal, wonderfully normal. I don't know how else to explain it. They're still in bed now, and I realize tomorrow I'll struggle to get them to school in time. It wasn't a Caribbean holiday or an extravagant vacation by any means, but it was outside of the ordinary, and that makes for a different experience. I gave my daughter more free access to the kitchen and she used that opportunity to prepare snacks for all of us. She seemed delighted with her culinary freedom and I realized I would have to give her more guidelines and opportunities to cook at home. If she knows what she is allowed to do and can safely prepare food, I think she will like this. But up until this point the mess and lack of self-control has discouraged me from granting her kitchen priveleges. She has been known to suck honey right from the plastic bear. But, perhaps she is growing up. I guess, I need to grow up with her.

Listening to Beethoven

I've borrowed some earphones and am listening to music while writing... but I keep thinking of the lyrics and want to sing out!

Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love;
Hearts unfold like flowers before Thee, opening to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness; drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day!

All Thy works with joy surround Thee, earth and heaven reflect Thy rays,
Stars and angels sing around Thee, center of unbroken praise.
Field and forest, vale and mountain, flowery meadow, flashing sea,
Singing bird and flowing fountain call us to rejoice in Thee.

Thou art giving and forgiving, ever blessing, ever blessed,
Wellspring of the joy of living, ocean depth of happy rest!
Thou our Father, Christ our Brother, all who live in love are Thine;
Teach us how to love each other, lift us to the joy divine.

Mortals, join the happy chorus, which the morning stars began;
Father love is reigning o’er us, brother love binds man to man.
Ever singing, march we onward, victors in the midst of strife,
Joyful music leads us Sunward in the triumph song of life.