Categories
A Blog a Day in May

Sad Hands

My hands are not happy with me. If there were little faces in the middle of my palms, both faces would feature a raised eyebrow and an angry forehead, absolutely. They’ve had a big day, the poor muffins. But because they’ve had a big day…I’ve had a good one. A satisfying one.

It all started when a GIGANTIC load of firewood landed in the driveway. I’d just finished putting my little girl into bed when I noticed the truck and the man and the wood, ALL the wood, goodness gracious me.

I called my husband and tried to explain to him the faces my hands had begun to make in preparation for the mammoth effort that lay in front of me. In other words. Oh, bother. Wood. In driveway. Who is going to move it? Oh, yes, that’s right: me.

My husband (who was at work, probably grinning) suggested that I tidy the firewood storage area and, If I could do that by the time he got home, he would happily do the lifting, the wheelbarrowing, the stacking. The stacking. The stacking.

Well, could I just leave it, and wait for a man?

I would not just leave it there, NO, Sam I Am!

Instead, me and my little people bundled into our ‘cold day’ clothes, and with the Super Mario Brothers theme song blipping away in the background, Mummy moved the wood. All of it. All-of-it.

What a legend.

What an amazing, awesome, mega wonderful—and unbelievably modest—super champion I am.

Now.

How to convince my aching hands that this whole wooden adventure has all been worth it?

This may take a while.

bicycle bike brakes classic
Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com on Pexels.com

 

Categories
A Blog a Day in May

Autumn

I’m lounging in the sun chair, peering into the Autumn.

The window’s grown cold, just like everything else around here that once was warm. It’s like we’re in a corridor. At one end: summer. At this end: winter. Maybe we’ll build a fire today.

The leaves are tumbling and it’s the most beautiful thing, to stand among the twisting and falling: orange, yellow, red. I’ve always marveled at the beauty of autumn, but this year seems different.

This year I feel the falling.

It’s a sense of relief, as though maybe this is a new start for my lovely tree friends, a shedding of old skin, the beginning of a new life. Beautiful trees. You begin again with such grace, such beauty. Such confidence.

It really is quite lovely of you.

photography of child pushing the wagon
Photo by Jennifer Murray on Pexels.com

 

 

 

 

 

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 26. Days Like These

Dear world—you’ve really gone and done it this time.

Just look at all the sun-drenched wonder you’ve strung about my life today; I mean, really.

What is it that you do to me? How is it that you fill my heart with so much glitter and starlight?

And you don’t even seem to try.

Darling, darling days, like these.

That’s how.

IMG_4144

What a gift this day was for the little boy who swung, and slid and jumped.

For the toddler girl who ran and ran and ran, like the cutesie bubble of dynamite she is.

For the Dad who sipped coffee like liquid gold, and lifted his face to the warmth of the sun.

What a gift it was for me, too.

And probably for the fairies. (Don’t tell me you don’t believe in fairies, now.)

IMG_4176

Autumn does this to me, you know.

Takes my heart in her hand and rings it like a hand-bell.

Shakes me up in a cup of her magic dust—cut from the moon and the sun and the stars…

And leaves.

IMG_4137

And more leaves.

IMG_4146

Who knows what that magic is, dear world. I bet you don’t even know, yourself.

But it’s just so beautiful.

And gentle.

Like a breeze that fills the air with the song of the birds.

IMG_4140

Darling days.

Never did I think they could be so sweet, but here we are, once again.

A day so darling and bright.

A day to fill this heart of mine to overflowing.

It really has been that darling.

And…maybe a little random, too.

IMG_4168

The darling blog of May

 

 

 

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 2. Paper Rain

I’ve got my little boy to thank for it; this paper rain that taps on the roof, every time the wind blows.

To the adult eye—the eye that’s been battered and bruised by the duller shades of life—this paper rain…it’s just a bunch of leaves.

Leaves that leap and tumble and spin from the tallest trees.

Leaves that really are beautiful, dressed in their autumn best.

Still. They’re just leaves.

But my little boy, oh.

His eyes know what they see. And they do not see leaves.

They see paper rain.

To him, and all the other tiny humans that walk this rounded earth of ours, ordinary is…

Extraordinary.

Ordinary is full of sparkle and shine.

Ordinary does not exist to them.

To the tiny folk of the world, autumn is full of trees that sprinkle copper flakes of paper all about the lawn.

Darling, isn’t it?

Yes.

I thought you’d think so.

pexels-photo.jpg

The darling blog of May