Pig and farm report
I want to write about Sam about what the past few months were like as she struggled with her mental and physical health (her sailing in and out of dementia) and how my son cared for her with heartbreaking tenderness but when I think of putting words to it I can’t breathe so not yet not yet
It is quiet in my house today yesterday I baked a giant apple stuffed honey challah for no one in particular but because the creation of it kept my hands busy my mind occupied between bouts of weeping I’m still in bed this morning with both feral cats curled at my right and left sides looking at photos of New York fashion week and enjoying my solitude it’s the first time in weeks that I have been truly by myself here at Summer’s End where I just celebrated my five year houseaversary and I needed this quiet as much as the trees need rain
Why don’t you all join me here in this newly green place and we can break bread together and discuss our costumes for the Met Gala or gardens or art or god or tide tables or baking or perfume or books or sewing or animal hijinks or dahlias or sourdough starters or aging anything anything at all but politics
Big Love from the seaside,
Rebecca
posted by Radish King at 9:15 AM
9 Comments:
That sounds lovely.
Dave! Hello. Welcome back. (thank you) R~
What a most-worthy loaf of challah that is. It knows your heart was in it.
Rest.
Thank you Mary Moon. I can tell you that it was as eggy as a brioche and sweet like those Hawaiian rolls. Yum.
I'll watch you make challah. Then we'll listen to the rain. Hugs.
I wish I could sit with you on your sofa and brush your hair. And braid it. And fasten off the ends with those little plastic barrettes we used to use--one yellow, one blue. Cry as much as you will. And yowl. I will press my feet into the small of your back and keep you steady.
Dearest R, I can’t think of anything better. XOR
Rebecca thank you as always fir keeping watch. 👁
I'll take some challah and we can talk about that Kardashian outfit.
Post a Comment
<< Home