Little Things

1.  The house is still but for the Woodsies posed in mid-action on the living room floor.  We'll pick it up tomorrow where we left with Owl talking to his students (Raccoon, Rabbit, and Beaver) about the benefits of insects.  Already Nora knows so much about pollination and the earthworm's gifts in the garden.  She also believes that I "cursed the worms out" one day for eating all the broccoli.  Believe me.  I don't curse in front of the garden.  I curse in front of the lawn mower, the 40 pound bags of rock salt, and grizzly bears.

2.  I'm learning how to knit.  I've always loved the way the needles sound hitting each other.  That's why I just left the yarn out and just sit here with them playing drums.  So far I can knit "Wipeout" and that Rush song "Tom Sawyer."  I don't like Rush, but if you can play that song on knitting needles, you can probably knit a sweater, too.

3.  The garden is dying, and I have had a cold for over 2 weeks now.  I'll admit I've been a bit down.  Partially it's this cold that won't seem to take a hike, and another part is watching everything turn brown, succumb to grasshopper and my limited time for caring for it.  I've been trying to think too hard about whether or not I'm leaving too many things half done or done poorly.  I've probably been too hard on myself in some ways, too.  That's wasted time.  The Proverbs 31 woman (she's my hero) isn't blessed by the thoughts of her mind.  She's blessed by the gifts of her hands.  So, I keep my hands moving (see number 2.)

4.  Nora and I were both brought to tears, I forget why now.  "Come over here, Nora."  "What."  "Just come here a second."  I take out two spoons, and pour honey in both, the golden sweet slowness amber in the sun coming through the kitchen windows.  I sit on her step stool by the sink.  "Eat this."  "Why?"   "This is how sweet God wants our lives to be."  We both put the spoons in our mouths, flower sweet like life medicine.  She stops crying immediately.  So do I.  We just sit there for a long time eating spoonful after spoonful of this life He made for us, sweet and difficult and sudden and still.