16 March 2019

notes on a week.

it's been an exhale of a week, one for tossing open the windows and noticing the light pouring in like butter. i devoured a whole motherhood memoir in three days' time, couldn't put it down, and gave the nursery a spruce, pruning clothes and books, moving the school desk one way, moving the red piano another, moving the energy 'round and 'round the room. chris made lettuce wraps and poured my coffee in my favorite earthen mug, with milk frothed like swan feathers, like mountain tops. ella and laura came to play and angie was in from utah for one brief and shining morning. it felt good to hug her. we walked for a salmon bagel with cream cheese and red onions and capers, baby's first and he couldn't nibble quickly enough. we shared it perched in the sunshine and i could feel my bones humming, i swear i could. we listened to iron & wine and the lumineers and i made a list of things that would be fun to do while papa is in senegal. i delighted in the scene: baby on the swings, neighbors spilling into the park, birds worshipping heaven and earth. we walked home slow and and we sang itsy bitsy spider and we examined the peony bushes along our block for buds. we celebrated this feeling, this bright song in our springward bones, with a small posy that francis insisted he hold himself. hyacinth boy.

1 comment:

  1. Please never stop writing these beautiful odes to (extra)ordinary life.