Laundry year round and so grateful now that the sheets no longer come in as planks.
Bought this obelisk for 50 cents or two dollars or whatever from a guy at a rather make-shift garage sale outside an apartment building who said he was leaving town to go live with his mother in Florida. He was in his fifties at least and there was something sad not jubilant about his plans and he seemed to put a great deal of weight on the sale of these bits and pieces as if it was going to help his cause and every time I walk past this thing (which I love) in the garden I think of him and hope he is well. Whoever he is.
My parents gave us the gift of a wheelbarrow when we moved into this house. After a couple decades of hard use it finally rusted out and has since been put out to pasture near the blackberry bushes. I would like to grow cucumbers in it this year.
Chairs for tea and sunrise watching. Fairies live in this vicinity.
Unfortunately the picture doesn’t show my beloved cat socks.
This candle, never used, smells exactly like everybody’s dad’s aftershave. It’s lived on our patio table for at least two years and sometimes when I’m sitting outside and want to conjure up a certain memory, I lift the lid, close my eyes and inhale… and it’s nineteen seventy something again.
#thepowerofshadows
I know the focus is shadows but what I really love about this is how it evokes spring. Sheets still planking here on our ice-covered chunk of granite in the north Atlantic. I also really, really love the poem.
Laundry on the line was invented on that ice-covered chunk of granite, no?? (: