This week I am suddenly without a camera although  I’ve never had a camera since I started this blog. Harriet has kindly lent me hers all this time. I’ve gotten a bit too used to it and now it feels very strange to sit and write without a photo first. Last three pictures on the memory card I took earlier in the week when it was still raining and I went out for a walk thinking I might find a few fiddleheads.  And then the week was a blur-  mostly work related but also, the girls have a lot to say in a day. One afternoon I counted the seconds of silence from the time they got off the bus until they were in bed and it was never more than 14. Has someone written a book yet about how introverted mothers cope with loving attention from their beloved children? (Oh yes! Five Minutes Peace).

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Best things about Sunday I’m already anticipating: rhubarb syrup, Almond Coconut cake, being off the hook for washing dishes for a day (dare I dream?), listening to Prairie Home Companion, and a tiny nap on the couch after lunch.

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I now exist on the principle of shortsightedness, which demands enhanced attention to the moment. Late wisdom, but close to the wisdom of childhood. A lovely summer day. Color, taste, scent. A squirrel. Cherries. Good tiredness. Cauliflower for supper. Clean house. And always darkness, darkness that spreads around all of it. Everything submerged in awful darkness. ~Anna Kamienska (A Nest of Quiet)

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Happy Weekend, everyone.