Sunday Evening

Hello Gentle Readers. Thursday I saw the first juncos of the season. The small gray and white sparrows with pale pink beaks have returned to brave the cold and wind of winter. This afternoon when a partly cloudy sky carried the promise of a brighter blue, I made a cup of tea and threaded a needle to finish this little piece. I stitched one more star in the upper left hand corner. 

It's been a hard few days. I am deeply sad over much of the election of last week. If you disagree with me, I hope you keep reading as I continue to read blog posts of those with differing opinions. I'm listening to you with respect. 

Kamala Harris is a thoughtful intelligent gracious leader. She has accomplished much in her life. Although I wouldn't ask her to do more, I have no doubt she will find ways to continue her work. Some of my sadness comes from the loss of possibility. When it comes to the potential of women and persons of color, the loss of possibility is a too often told story. 

For now I'm following the lead of Krista Tippett and looking for what stitches us together. My hope is that we find away around bitter division and the "us vs. them" mentality that dogs both political parties. Maybe, just maybe, this is an opportunity for a shift in thinking. Maybe together, we could find a different way. I have no concrete ideas on how to do this. Still, I choose love, hope, and imagination. I have children and grandchildren and can do no less.

Wednesday I went for a walk on the edge of town and was reminded by a poem I wrote at another time of loss. I put it away for awhile but it is finished enough to share. The work is copyrighted and it is illegal to use it without my permission. 

November on the Prairie

On this day heavy with autumn's hinge,                                                                                                        I need to breathe in the wind, taste the grit                                                                                                    feel tears created by dust in my heart. 

Under yellowy sunlight of an old woman's hair,                                                                                            I wrap brown and gold around my shoulders.                                                                                                Inhale the prairie's wisdom.      

Song of white throated sparrow                                                                                                                     leads me through tall dry stalks,                                                                                                                     then disappears.

Away from the blustering world                                                                                                                     I lean into the upward grade                                                                                                                          each breath a season, each sound                                                                                                                   a lullaby that rocks me home. 

Jane A. Wolfe

copyright, 2024

May you find your way home in this blustery world. 

  

Now it is November

Hello Gentle Readers. The decreasing time of daylight, cloudy skies, and leaves underfoot tell me it is November. Much needed rain fell Sunday and Monday nights. The sound of rumbling thunder was so welcome and almost strange as I hadn't heard it for some time. I'm writing this post early as I won't have time on Wednesday morning. Today, the national, state, and local elections loom large in everyone's mind. Our church is sponsoring a forum this coming Sunday to promote civil discussion and focus on the common good in "the beloved community." 

On Wednesday, I'll link this post with Kat and the Unravelers. I finished the Scrappy Cold Brew socks knit from several partial skeins. Mostly I knit the slip-stitch pattern every ten rows. Since I needed an easy one skein project for travel knitting, I cast on a hitchhiker. I haven't picked it up since I returned home but it will be good knitting for this evening. I've finished the center section of the Leaflette Scarf/Shawl. Last night I knit four rows of the next chart and discovered an error in my stitch count/pattern. Here I was sailing through this project, patting myself on the back that I hadn't had to redo any rows. Pride goes before a fall. I plan to fix the mistake in daylight hours. 

While I was traveling, I read some fluff, The Library of Borrowed Hearts by Lucy Gilmore. I rarely read romance novels but chose this one because it had literary twist. A book with notes between two young people is discovered in a musty library basement by a struggling young woman. She sets out to find out more about them. It was ok reading after full days with family.  I'm currently rereading The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich because it is this month's selection by my local book group. This 2021 Pulitzer Prize winner stands up well to a second reading. Erdrich's beautiful descriptions of the natural world and very human characters is a joy to read. Several of the main characters are watching out for each other in various ways. The layered themes will make a good discussion.

I see the bright blue gray sky that comes only at this time of year. Here's to taking care of ourselves and others this November.

TGIF 11.1.24

As I post, I'm watching a squirrel carry leaves up the birch to construct a winter shelter. While squirrels are not my favorite critters, signs of seasonal changes comfort me. This past Wednesday was a reentry day and so I'm posting today. 

I am thinking about Jane Hirshfield and her poetry. Lately, I bookend my days with her poems. In the morning I read from a large collection, The Asking and in the evening I read from The Beauty. In an "On Being" interview, Hirshfield stated she continually asks questions of herself and the world. Her way of looking at the world makes me stop and think. After listening again to the interview, I hear her voice in my head. I wish I could hear her read more extensively. The subtle inflections of words spoken by the poet make for a rich experience.

I am grateful for my visit to Connecticut. Both traveling days were uneventful. I spent four glorious, ordinary days with Kate and her family. The weather was gorgeous. Kate and I walked the three younger ones to and from school. The mornings they were in school, my daughter and I walked trails along the Mianus River and Long Island Sound. 

I bought her a coffee, hung out at home, attended Trunk or Treat on Saturday and church on Sunday. Patrick was in charge of the event so he didn't make it into many photos but he was the perfect 1950's Dad in a white shirt with a pocket protector/pens and black pants. The days filled my heart. 

Back to the Future costumes

I am inspired by Kamala Harris and her campaign. However this election turns out, she has made a difference in our world and inspired a new generation of women. Once a long time ago, I listened to a keynote address by a nationally known early childhood educator. I can't remember her name but I do remember one of her remarks. "Somewhere a future president of the US attends preschool and she could be sitting in your classroom tomorrow." 

As for fun, nothing beats an October day playing in the leaves with kids. Norah and I made some leaf rubbings with crayons. I helped Micah and Norah gather leaves into a pile. They wore shorts, I had on long pants and a sweatshirt.  Go figure. In their joy, I see hope.