The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Friday, October 25, 2013

321 Blue SKY
It's that time of the year...

a transitional time.  It's chillier in my house right now ... exactly how I like it, cool air, alpaca throw so soft, strong hot coffee ... and a wonderful new candle, white oak and iris ... smoky woods ... I close my eyes and  hear orange leaves crunching under foot as I walk ...
(I want to note for myself here something pretty neat ... that happy place where a full blue moon sails across a summer scented sky dancing with the cicada song ... it continues to be accessible, I thought it was seasonal, I thought it was a time of tangy sweet lemonade which I drank while I sat alone waiting ... for what I did not know.  And maybe that's what I'm trying to express today in this little note to self ... there is a place, is it inside me? it doesn't feel like something my brain does, it feels like something my soul knows, it feels like a place to walk barefoot on powdery sand, and ... over there is the rope swing where one might spin silly dizzy falling laughing into soft grass so fragrant green you can taste it ... and now ... the air becomes chilly but it "feels" like the same day and I smile to recall the sun and the moon companioning  in the same blue sky (and that blue wasn't just blue it was all the blues found between red and green, with effervescence flashing through the high flowing clouds) ... last week on that CJ trip.  It's time to plant hyacinths here in the garden at my home towards a hope of Spring ... also in the lower sunlight of the interior space.  Is that one of the gifts given by time?  This place ... This place my heart grew strong enough to carry ... this place where my soul cocoons.)

Yesterday I sat with two of my girls enjoying their all grown up companionship ... there is a certain joy in hearing them laugh together.  The meal was perfection.  And later in the day, home with Five enjoying her enjoying that purring pile of black cats ... who might have ever guessed the joy of that?  Three sent a text saying he'd be home for Sunday lunch ... I love him and I love to cook ... I've already begun to marinate in the joy of planning a meal, already savoring the promise of time shared ... he is my very best hugger (and he smells like my dad). V, sleeping in this morning, was looking through her cookbook, marking recipes to "try" ... bet we'll find something just right there.

Been crazy busy working with students this past several weeks.  I say crazy busy because I'm too on the go for quiet time and too on the go for exercise time ... I think Sammy has just about given up on me.  I could fly just for fun today and it surprises me a bit to know that I would just as soon hang out around the house.  There's a girl snoozing who will be delighted with my offer of breakfast out ... or lunch as time might have it.  I'm thinking about a chest of drawers in the garage, I think I've meandered to the big idea for it's restoration ... maybe ... where what is white in the photo will be natural wood and the yellow will be Annie Sloan's new mustardy yellow ... the entire project mellowed with an antiquing stain wax.  Yes I think that just might be it.  Maybe I can persuade little miss to stencil shop with me today.

So ... 321 blue sky  ... a picture of where one might "go" in a airplane ... I know what I mean by that.  
One guy came in on that jet, it's his ... two pilots, one silver haired with deep crinkles around his still laughing eyes, the other a kid who trained here 13 years ago ... welcome home, enjoy the BBQ, he's BOS based now flying a jet for a man who probably didn't have time for a local lunch.  There's a diamond in the middle sky of this shot, just off 36 ... I know there's a kid far away from the farm he grew up on in China flying that one while he learns English and Aviation.  And the other, just a speck really, is a Skyhawk overflying midfield, maneuvering, teardrop, into the 45 downwind.  

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