tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517881874258683381.post7402402957077025601..comments2023-06-25T08:45:08.985-04:00Comments on Not Even A Wren: an update on goodnessmeganhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10064483599165161879noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517881874258683381.post-43641418459145281532012-07-06T14:40:43.444-04:002012-07-06T14:40:43.444-04:00oh man. I am so sorry about your chickens. That ro...oh man. I am so sorry about your chickens. That rots. Super rots. <br />And, he is accurate.meganhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10064483599165161879noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5517881874258683381.post-43891885866398279272012-07-06T12:03:26.675-04:002012-07-06T12:03:26.675-04:00hmmm...
intriguing.
also: love the phrase "n...hmmm...<br />intriguing.<br /><br />also: love the phrase "nailed to the floor with some things while awed and lifted by others, over and over again." And yes <----"I think that's the way it will be". <br />funny how the dates of things stay with us, or loom more importantly after Something Like This. For me it's the blooming of a certain daylily that was Jeff's favorite. The plant in question I had given him as an anniversary present years ago to replace one left at our last house. It bloomed the morning he died. I noticed it as his sister led me away from our house where they were taking him away. Yup. So I knew what day it bloomed THAT year. (had never paid attention before that). <br />In the years since, it has been earlier & earlier each year. <br />Yesterday I went outside to find my new batch of my chickens got murdered (taken) overnight. And to find also that the bud on the first blossom on that plant had started to unfurl, like a curled lip opening. I kind of felt like he was telling me he was with me, as I stood desolate in the yard mourning my birds. Not "it's ok" but merely "I am here and that is what I can offer you".<br /><br />*carolynhttp://throughawidowseyes.wordpress.comnoreply@blogger.com