Blue Umbrella (John Prine)

It is waaaaaay past midnight.  I should have been in the bed over an hour ago.  I am tired and I am wired and tomorrow (ugh, that would be later today) is going to be a long, hard day.

Tonight we hosted a poolside gathering of close friends and out-of-town family, 6-9 p.m.-ish.  Sarah's friend Joe (whose family owns and operates an Italian restaurant) contributed 10 pizzas, 3 large trays of ziti (one of them vegan), and 2 trays of garlic rolls (one of them vegan).  We bought soft drinks and a large dispenser of water.  Sarah's other friends Nicole and Susan brought an amazing assortment of desserts.  Voi-f*cking-la... 🎆

Definitely a worlds-colliding party, that I don't have the energy to go into now but hope to revisit at a later date.  Everyone there was a meant-to-be.  Eric would have loved it.

Kind Words might be my Kryptonite... but Gratitude is my default... 💖

P.S.  For obvious reasons, I will not post Saturday night... but I certainly hope to on Sunday.  And then it might be a good time for the break I spoke of in yesterday's post.

SONG:  Blue Umbrella by John Prine

BOOK:  Grateful for the Color Blue: Surviving the Loss of an Adult Child by Ellyn Wolfe

POEM:  Peregrina by Sharon Blackie

O mother of the sea

lend me a wave that is strong and true

to carry me from this Age which unbinds me.

I do not need a ship, mother,

but make it a buoyant swell

to bear me up and float me on the sea’s dreaming

then beach me on some lighter shore.

When I land there, give me warp and weft again,

and an urchin quill to remind me

how the prettiest barb can lodge under your skin

and leave you undone.

Only lend me a loom and I will

take up the threads of this unraveled life.

I will weave a braid from three strands of seaweed

I will wind it three times around my finger

I will dig my salt-encrusted hands into the soil

and wed myself to the thirsty

brown roots of a new beginning.  

QUOTE:  "At a certain point, you say to the woods, to the sea, to the mountains, the world:  Now I am ready. Now I will stop and be wholly attentive. You empty yourself and wait, listening." ~ Annie Dillard