this moment

{this moment} - Joining Soulemama's Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

rice

i was thinking. i know, i know… who has time for that?? but i was. and what i was thinking was this: that those 5lb. bags of flour they gave us in high school to 'simulate' having a baby perpetuated LIES. no really, it should have been a 15lb. bag of rice. with a small explosive set to explode said bag of rice at random intervals; mostly when you are trying to be on time for something. and you'd have to carry around spare bags and a dustpan and sweep it all up and get it all in a new bag before you got to where you were going. you'd be late. a lot. and you would sleep, fitfully, on rice. it would be in your ears and bra... it would itch. and at the end of the 4 years of high school if you still had at least 14.5lbs. then, maybe then you passed that part of sex ed. maybe. if they didn't randomly give you another 15lb. bag after 2 years.

persephone

she came back. she must have heard the music… jazz, i believe it was jazz.

this moment

{this moment} - Joining Soulemama's Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

this moment

{this moment} - Joining Soulemama's Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Happy Solstice

Happy Solstice Friends
May You Find Warmth and Hope in the Returning Sun

Oak logs will warm you well.

That are old and dry;
Logs of pine will sweetly smell
But sparks will fly.Birch-logs will burn too fast,
Chestnuts scarce at all;
Hawthorne-logs are good to last
Cut them in the fall.
Holly-logs will burn like wax,
You may burn them green
Elm-logs like to smouldering flax,
No flame to be seen.
Beech-logs for winter time,
Yew logs as well,
Green elder logs are a crime
for any man to sell.
Pear-logs and apple-logs,
They will scent your room,
Cherry-Logs across the dogs
Smell like flower of broom.
Ash-logs, smooth and gray,
Burn them green and old,
Buy up all that come your way
Their worth their weight in gold.
-E. M. Hull’s "Poem Book of the Gael"

this moment

{this moment} - Joining Soulemama's Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.