what is wrapping you up?

i’m a big fan of fall and winter, and even cold, wet spring. big. big fan.

and i am pretty certain it has to do with snuggling up. what makes me cozy in those times is absolutely everything. children, blankets, food… you name it, it works.

and when it is summer, and the heat the heat and the no air conditioning? and now, the working outside, and the frequent greenhouse experience which makes it seven thousand degrees? i have a much harder time finding comfort. Even the single, crisp sheet at night? Its not the same as flannel guys, it is not.

And so I have this early morning time. And in June, it can exist that the dew on the grass is cold, the walk to the garden feels fresh, and the leaking hose on my toes feels ice cold. The sun on the green in the morning is the definition of refresh.

I started writing here today thinking about the things we wrap around ourselves. For me, its my humor, my joy, and my self-protection. Two of the three are just fine. The third is hard won and I can’t seem to let it go just yet. I don’t want to find myself nearing annihilation in a relationship, ever, right. That self-effacement from the other day? Yeah. Roots are somewhat compromised there.

If you keep erasing yourself, you end up gone.

So, feeling safe is no joke, and being visible and solid are necessary, and I’m constantly re-wrapping myself. There is much in life that happens anyhow, disregarding my wrappings. I am no fool. I know life… and its cycles…is the powerhouse in all of the stories, but while I can be, I am quite well-wrapped and I’m not quite ready for the heat and the re-assessment that it causes.

While I love the cold for its ability to provide space, and nurture and thought and slow action and fireplaces full of intentions, the summer pushes me right out of my wrappings and out into the light. I hate it. I love it. (mostly I love it when its over, and I look back on what i have survived.) I’m the worm on pavement after a rainy day. Will she find her way home? Will she be devoured?

Dude. The rainy day is coming, drought or no. And I am sweating it.

or is it all just a hot flash?

Sigh. God bless you for reading. Seriously. I should pay your therapy bills.




Heat, the vapors, and Me.


The past three days have been in the 90s here, And I’ve got the vapors, friends. I’m the one who fades and waves fans at her face, and I have been known to keep a tissue in my bra for wiping my brow. ( now that I have burned all my bras, I’m not sure what will happen going forward. We’ll see, won’t we?)

I just got out of a nice cool bath. The salts I had put in were a blend of green tea and some other things, so I felt like I was dipping ever so slightly into a brew of lightness for the summer. The water was a pale green and I’ve come out with clean body parts and a clean and fresh mood.

And its really stinking hot. and its only June 7th. Climate change and why I don’t want to run all the bedroom ACs yet. I really do not. I also want a serious break from my utility bills. Maybe in August, for two weeks. ?

I have these choices, and this list:

  1. Do all the outside tasks before 9:15 am.
  2. Do nothing. Stay as still as a rock in a shady section of the house. Look at a book if its not
  3. Remember that the kids will have to eat, pull something out to thaw.
  4. Remember that there is money to be made. Sit at a computer. Fingers flail and jobs are conquered.
  5. Stare out the window. Dream about whole-house AC.
  6. Worry about the summer and having kids needing to go places and eat things all day long, when its even hotter. (this worry is relatively un-worrisome, I’ve been through this many times, I will survive. I don’t know how I do, but I do. I will again.)
  7. Wonder when its going to get dark so I can go back outside again.
  8. Realize I am a total whackjob. Spent every single day of my summers as a kid at the beach. Even the rainy ones. I must move to Northern Maine, or Canada. I must.
  9. Tell you all about how much I love seeing faces again. I love love love faces.
  10. Go get an ice pop from the freezer.

Dem’s the breaks, kids.

I love love you. Yes, I do.


The truthfulness of the truthfulness of me in the heat…