texting from Tupperware Heights
The arugula is fading out, (though if you invite us over for dinner in the next week, we will show up with a beautiful arugula salad that no kids will eat, except my friend Jennifer’s kids, who, while waiting for dinner, will go outside and eat dandelions. I am trying to splice some of their DNA into Col and Rose’s).
It turns out stripping hundreds of arugula leaves off stems is great therapy plus mindfulness practice plus Mama quiet time. It’s kind of like when the kids were very young and scared of the vacuum. When I needed no one to ask anything of me for ten minutes, I would plug in the vacuum and the kids would hide in their room while I buzzed around the house in a weird, loud state of relief that only someone who felt like time might actually be going backwards could appreciate. Now, I go outside and pick arugula.
Col decided to teach Rose how to play chess approximately ten minutes before we had to leave for shared school, and if waking a sleeping baby is taboo, than try interrupting two harmonious siblings.
It’s been raining here (as in, almost daily this past week) which has been cheering me up immensely. All the seeds I planted a few weeks ago are coming up, including new rows of ARUGULA, which made me flinch at first, and then smile and give thanks.
Dan has been away for a week helping his mom in New Jersey on house projects. Dan’s mom has raised such kind, devoted sons, and just in case Col didn’t get the Grow Up and Pamper Mom gene, I like to mention regularly to him, “I bet Nana Judy is just thrilled to have Daddy helping her!”
I’ve been texting Dan with Tupperware Heights updates: La Plata Mtns socked in again. Simps heard in spruce tree across the street. (Simps are baby crows). Col spots bullock’s oriole in yard. You know, the big news. I’ve realized that what I miss so much about Dan (besides the fact that he’s mastered the coffee/water ratio of our french press and isn’t squeamish about trekking through our coon-inhabited yard at night to lock up the chickens) is how we partner in celebrating the ordinary details.
I think this picture will cheer me up for approximately the rest of my life.
I read two books recently that I want to recommend. Big Little Lies by Liane Moriarty is a fast, suspenseful and masterfully written saga of mothers and children, all of whom you can relate to even if you don’t want to admit it. There is bad behavior, humor, secrets, friendship and bonus, a murder mystery.
I can still barely talk about the memoir, A House in the Sky by Amanda Lindhout. It’s the true story of a Canadian world-traveler, held by kidnappers in Somalia for over 400 days. I stayed up until 3am finishing it because it was so harrowingly gripping. And yet, Lindhout is courageous and forgiving and manages to tell her story without any extra drama.
Finally, I am extremely excited to share that I’ll be teaching the creative writing portion at two sessions of Art of Mindfulness Summer Camp for Kids. Children, ages 6-12, will rotate through mindfulness practice, yoga, theatre, drama, visual art and creative writing, each modality anchored in a child-friendly sense of mindfulness. (Mindfulness creates space…replacing impulsive reactions with thoughtful responses).The second session is 50% full, and scholarships are available courtesy of Inhabit. For more info, go here.
Have a superb Mother’s Day/May weekend.