the mud

Well? I don't know if I am well. I am trying, that's for sure. I hope you are well, or surviving. What can we do? I do not know. So I take baby steps. Today we had a postcard writing campaign  (find the postcards here) at our town library. I had asked a friend on Wednesday what she thought and we rallied and about 20 people showed up. We wrote over 275 postcards. We mailed them. I don't know what I expected but it was good. Good enough. We are trying to make our voices heard above the noise and chaos. We are trying to make change. This is the only way I know. Someone who attended our little workshop asked, "How do we make it through this? Any tips?" I never answered her as we all shared and swayed between thoughts and confusion, answers and questions. As we talked, I started misspelling words because it is just too much sometimes. But now I'd like to answer her question.  I am reminded of two things that help me when the way is not clear. One is a message from...

 I love this time of year, the After time. Don't get me wrong. I love the holidays too. Having the kids home for weeks and sharing their daily lives again is awesome. I love the decor and the celebrations and the food and even all the preparation in the kitchen and in the stores, collecting and gathering and creating. It's wonderful - the most wonderful time of the year. But what I really appreciate is this After time of year, the time after the grandiose holidays and the days before the spring air begins to breeze in. Winter - the Heart of Winter. The cold wind blows. The sun is low. The days are short. I don't even mind the darkness, it's a good excuse to go to bed early and wrap myself in books and tea and a heating pad. (I can't help it - I'm not young anymore.) And what calls to us is extra layers. Extra blankets on the bed. Extra sweaters and woolen mittens. Thick socks and furry slippers. A cozy wrap, a long scarf. Oatmeal in the morning. A bowl of hot so...

 My husband accuses me of bundling. Like everything. I won't go down the basement until I have collected a pile of everything that could possibly need to go down. So I'll bring the laundry down to the kitchen and then I'll start bundling. The old front door wreath goes on top of the laundry, The drill I used in the garden yesterday - on top. The Fourth of July banner on top of that. I can amass quite a pile. The same goes when I'm out doing errands. I have a doctor's appointment in Mt. Laurel? Hmm. I can stop at the Home Sense store, the big Dollar Tree, the Produce Junction, the Michaels, and the Container Store. All on my way home! I like bundling. Not just because it saves trips, which equates to gas, but it also saves my energy. If I separated those trips it would be hours or even days of travel. I don't have time for that. When I can I want to tie everything together and wrap it up. With a pretty bow.  Bundling was an act of desperation back when the kids w...

This morning I am creating a nest. I am building it from scratch with spare parts that have been left around from another owner. We are vacationing in a house on a lake near Grandfathers, since that currently has no running water. We love it up here. It is a place that is carved in our hearts and our stories.  Since this is a foreign house, I am trying to make it feel like home. We have been here for 2 days and now I see the needs and small fixes I can do to make things more ‘ours’.  I have brewed coffee and put away the dishes from last night. I have placed a small rug by the door to catch our shoes that are caked in pine needles and fallen beech leaves and sand from the beach. I have moved the ottoman away from the chair it belongs to so that we have an extra seat. We have more people than it sits. Charlie made a chair with two pillows and leaned them against the end table. We are all working to build the nest. I am using pillows and blankets which I found in an upstairs clo...

 What is grief? It is standing in the shower and  you are suddenly crying and then you are sobbing. And you barely thought about it in the two days since you heard  your Uncle Rich passed. You thought about your dad and your cousins and your aunt and how sad they must be and you checked in on your dad. "I'm so so sorry." And you went to work and you did what you had to do. And now you are ready for another day and you are thinking of all the things and then you are crying and you are little again and vulnerable  and your heart hurts. And you remember everyone. Medford Lakes and a swimming pool and laughing so hard  and dancing around a Christmas tree and fireworks by the lake at night. And you can see his face and all their faces smiling Aunts and uncles and cousins and brothers who aren't here. And you remember his voice, deep and laughing, and you remember his kindness and his advice. "Are you taking vitamin C, Joannie?" You see all their faces and you mis...

  Dear College Kid and Post-Grads,  Welcome Home! You are finally here! And we are so happy to welcome you. It's been a long semester. You've faced trials and tribulations. You still need to meet your own benchmarks and others you've exceeded. But it's over now. For now, you must rest. For now, you are released from your duties and obligations for studying and group projects. You don't have to worry about homework and practice and when to wake up and when to eat. You are home. You can sleep until noon. We are here to love you back to health and wellness and give you that unmistakable feeling of home.  Some things haven't changed here at home. There will be bacon and eggs for breakfast and we will get cream donuts from McMillan's tomorrow. We will have bagels and cream cheese one morning. Some things are new to us. We will order the meat lover's pizza. We will make room on the shelf for your protein powder. Some things have changed. We painted the front d...