On the bridge between 2012 and 2013, vegetation is a harbinger. So unusual is this specimen produced from Mary’s garden, it seeps into my dreams.
Purple cauliflower? Really?
2012 has been full of surprises. And it looks like 2013 may be colorful.
Here’s to things extra ordinary! Health! Happiness! Peace…Purple!!
With nearly a month (as of tomorrow) since the barefoot, Bohemian wedding, I’m just beginning to settle down.
It was a beautiful swirl of friends and family. Candles, flowers and foliage. Lots and lots of love.
Now we are newlyweds (with a nine-year old). No honeymoon, as of yet. We’ve moved on to birthday and Christmas celebrations.
Back in our routines, the Bohemian stays his steady self, though we watch his wedding ring go through phases. One day it nearly slips right off his finger. Days later, it’s tight to the point of no removal. Mine, I barely realize it’s there. Just like I wanted. Beautiful. Solid. Golden. No muss, no fuss.
And Jeb. He’s on school vacation, rekindling his love for the card game, Uno. We spend evenings in a mellow, post-dinner phase. He and the Bohemian matching colors (“draw two cards and change to green”) while I fit jigsaw pieces of bunny fur into our newly gifted puzzle.
Just before the holidays, the Bohemian topped a nearby Norfolk pine tree and brought 10 feet of greenery home. We planted the trunk in a pot, right here in the living room. Now we’re all strung up in lights. Shiny balls hang in red, green and gold, creating the epitome of Christmas cozy (though we’re all sock less here in the tropics).
Jeb finally wins a round of cards. My bunny is starting to take form. The Bohemian is whistling a Christmas carol at the sink.
I know clichés are boring. But this one does feel lovely.
I could report all of the daily details. The events (big and small) that have been unfolding in the past 48 hours. That’s apparently what I do here in the Archives.
But the truth is, right now, the details tire me.
I’m craving a blank slate. An empty page. Some time with Zelva the turtle, watching her move three feet in twenty minutes. You know, a slow and steady stream of nothingness.
However, today’s schedule appears to be more hare-like. Hence, my body carves out stillness by protesting an early morning wake-up. My mind seeks solace in sleep. So instead of pre-dawn writing, I wake with the day. Rise with a burst of sun.
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