It's snowing again. It's pretty. I am glad I can still see pretty.
It was heart rock heaven at the beach yesterday. Which is good,
because it was hell in me, at the time. Heart rocks are not a fair trade.
They do not make up for this at all. But still. Many, many heart rocks,
big ones, perfect ones, are still pretty neat. I left a pile of some of the best
ones for someone else to find, someone who needs them.
Today is a day of making marmalade, and setting creamed honey. Though my love,
and the ever-hungry kid, are no longer here to eat, I can't seem to stop cooking.
I made sourdough blackberry pancakes to feed the birds. The backlog of goat cheese
will likely feed the chickens. As will the lettuce. And the chard. And all the things
I find myself buying, as though I still believe you're home, and will be hungry, and
I get to feed you. Feed us. Together.
Heart rocks don't eat much.