quotidian

Listening:

Sam Lee, on repeat, Old Wow, and this song, “Soul Cake”, in particular:

Bless the makers of this house
the company, our kin
The chosen word, the dramaturge
The flesh, the sweat, the skin
Bless the babies in this bed

Reading:

Because I’m not going to pursue a degree in paleoanthropology–I’ve been looking into the hows and whys but it seems too complicated from this distance and at this age–I’ve been studying the reading lists for the courses I might have taken and am ordering books to do my own Teach Yourself programme at home. And right now I’m reading The Cradle of Humanity: Prehistoric Art and Culture by Georges Bataille. Some evenings I can’t wait to get into my bed with all 4 pillows…

Thinking:

Mostly I’m thinking about the past 70 years and how I might have been a better person.

Remembering:

How it felt to wake in a tent, listening to loons, in the early days of our residence here.

Wishing:

See “Thinking”.

Eating:

Last night I made a salad of our beautiful Coração de Boi tomatoes, the ones I bought seed for in Porto winter before last, with little dollops of fresh mozzarella, a handful of chopped basil, a drizzle of Frantoia olive oil, and some flaky Maldon salt. I could eat this every day.

Finishing:

Nothing. But I am about to baste two lengths of hand-dyed linen together, with an inner layer of organic cotton batting, for a small quilt.

Watching:

The sunsets have been beautiful. (See John’s photograph above.) And so have the stars.

Wearing:

My bathing suit. Since May 19th, I’ve gone swimming 85 times, mostly in the lake, but a couple of times in the ocean.

Loving:

The curve of each grandchild’s shoulder. Their bodies tucked close as I read to them over the past 3 weeks.

Hoping:

That someone, somehow, does something about Donald Trump. It goes on too long.

Enjoying:

Right now? The utter quiet of my house.

Appreciating:

Our well. The beautiful cold water it gives us daily. The bougainvillea that thrives in heat.