I call it “the Horse House.” Garden House was already taken by a place perched on the T tracks over by the lake. The Horse House is a corner lot with stunning trees, foundation beds, and median strip plantings. They even have a big garbage barrel on the curb for dog poop bags. Much appreciated.
I round this corner at about the halfway point of my dog walk. Usually when I pass, some kind of idea or some string of words have come to me for a blog post. Today, no. I can think of three reasons.
One: a clutter of dreams. A charging cord, hot and blackened. An 83 year old friend inexplicably standing in my bedroom where the bed keeps unmaking itself. A butt dial allowing me to hear disdainful confusion about texts I’d sent (“Remind me not to try and be helpful!”). The corralling of prisoners by a body of water. Have they been afforded due process?
Also I was listening to a New Yorker story about the pandemic, travel, risk, baseball and luck.
Third, at the corner I was confronted by the most delicious smell of sautéing garlic. Wow. 9:25 a.m.
Are you really writing a post about writing (or not writing) a post? Yeah. Sorry.
Today I’m going to couch yellow or red threads around a quilted house that disappears into its background. What are you six? Well, maybe.
In closing let me say that anyone hoping that the hyped 12:30 announcement by DOJ was about domestic terrorists or corrupt politicians will be very disappointed. Indictments for international cyber criminals are not nothing. But? I know accountability is coming. It’s just a matter of time, right?
waiting waiting and waiting becomes abandonment. and we still hope. we still hope.
That about sums it up.
i DO, very much love the disappearing house
Ah well changes are in the works. But thank you.
Such a bold heart, perhaps a strong one for waiting and holding on to hope. The house block fabrics, some of your recent choices…I like them very much.
Waiting and holding on to hope. Yes.
That arching half-a-heart branch is a portal to somewhere.
I watched the announcement. Pap, unless the second indicted – the Russian- can be tied directly to any Trump. At this point, I don’t care which one.
The whole property feels like a portal to somewhere. That’s such a good way to describe what’s so enticing and special about it.
This may seem out of context but…I like how grapevines (what I am thinking that second image is) hold on, I find hope in that.
The tenacious routines of nature. Lasting. Beautiful. Yes, there’s lot of hope in that.