Ten.Three Hundred & Nine
1. Why are they up before 6 am. I thought I had a rule about this.
2. What is the point of that rule if they no longer need me to be so present so early? They've fed themselves, cleaned their rooms, and one of them is already dressed. This is a parenting "success".
3. Today we will make the beds. I sit down to eat a bowl of cheerios and flax milk and drink a big jar of water.
4. At least we'll start our work in the shade.
5. I unload 68 bags of pea gravel from the pallet and 20 bags of top soil.
6. I can't remember the last time I had a blister. He says that he's soft—that we're soft. I suggest we do more work like this. "The soft ones die first," I say. Since reading "Parable of the Sower" I can't not think of life after system, economic, and culture collapse.
7. Done. What was once a blank and unusable space behind the garage is 3 garden beds and a small sitting area for my mornings. Or on evenings once the sun begins to set behind the hill.
8. We stare out at the street stretched before us arguing over things that don't really matter.
9. Tomorrow? Planting and resting and cleaning and laundry.
10. A body aching in gratitude, blanketed in a gauzy shawl, gentle breeze blowing against the skin.