I’ve been away, working on the house. There is no internet connection there. I could go to the Starbucks that is a mile away but I don’t bother taking the computer down. Typically, I wake up very early and start working and realize by eleven that I should probably take a break and get a cup of coffee. Then an hour later I actually get around to showering and head out for something to eat. While I’m there, it is hard not to imagine a life in that house. It has plaster walls, a working fireplace, and happy memories. I see a blank slate with good bones and my mind can’t help but come up with endless possibilities.
. . . . .
On Sunday morning I drove to Darlington to go to Meeting and caught a glimpse of K sitting in a rocker on her front porch with a book. (All is right in the world when K is relaxing.) In the meetinghouse I got lots of hugs, questions about how Harriet and Elisa are growing, and love sent back for Billy. I sat by a sunny window and listened as they addressed concerns of communication between Friends with various political leanings. I had to ask myself too, “Do you see the difference or the person?” Quakers talk about things slowly but in time you get to the truth that lies hidden. The truth I heard this week is that everyone feels busy and what is falling by the wayside is the unstructured time people once had to develop relationships. The immediate solution was to organize some structured time together. Baby steps. I invited them to bring all the kids up this winter to go skiing.
Richard told me as we were walking out that he was talking with an Amish man one day and made the comment that everyone is not going to agree on everything in this world. The Amish man nodded in agreement and said to him, “It is a good thing we are all different. If we were all the same, everyone would like my wife and that would not be good.”
We have a spring in the field right outside the kitchen window by the old pear tree. The grass grows thicker there. So tempting to walk through the dark green lushness but your shoes would be sucked off and lost forever in the deep mud. I just sat and watched the water in one of the wet holes spray up in bursts like a small sprinkler. I watched and wondered if the earth was releasing some gas that sent the water flying. Then a small bird, freshly bathed, flew out of the hole.