Jul. 10th, 2022

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The treasure

Mountains, a moment’s earth-waves rising and hollowing; the earth too’s an ephemerid; the stars—

Short-lived as grass the stars quicken in the nebula and dry in their summer, they spiral

Blind up space, scattered black seeds of a future; nothing lives long, the whole sky’s

Recurrences tick the seconds of the hours of the ages of the gulf before birth, and the gulf

After death is like dated: to labor eighty years in a notch of eternity is nothing too tiresome,

Enormous repose after, enormous repose before, the flash of activity.

Surely you never have dreamed the incredible depths were prologue and epilogue merely

To the surface play in the sun, the instant of life, what is called life? I fancy

That silence is the thing, this noise a found word for it; interjection, a jump of the breath at that silence;

Stars burn, grass grows, men breathe: as a man finding treasure says ‘Ah!’ but the treasure’s the essence;

Before the man spoke it was there, and after he has spoken he gathers it, inexhaustible treasure.

Robinson Jeffers

Devotions

Jul. 10th, 2022 11:23 pm
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Big day, and some challenging bits. But still, with a lot of stuff there's a lot to be glad for:

Downstairs has mostly finished its shift from storage/shop/plant room to livingroom: the sofa from which to watch the woodstove is down there and in place, the storage shelves are mostly moved out to the shipping container. I've already spent some time on the couch - the whole room looks different from that angle - and although the room isn't aesthetic yet it's functional. My wheel has a place in it too. My house feels more settled and more like home all the time.

I found a recipe book of the things I made in 2015. I'm super excited. I'd thought it lost.

Today included a couple-hour-long nap which was much needed.

I planted some greens in the garden: a lettuce/chicory mix, a brassica mix, a small patch of napa cabbage, a row of diakon, a small patch of conventional cabbage that's supposed to be aphid-repellant. I'll plant more soon. Planting seeds is one of the best things for my soul. The garden is full.

The tomatoes are flowering nicely. Fruit by Aug 10th maybe? Depends on the heat. I love my tomatoes. I'm glad they're thriving despite the late start and growing outdoors somewhere they have no right to grow.

I uncovered my magic manna and painted mountain corns today, and one patch of early riser. I think more painted mountain and early riser survived than I thought. I am deeply grateful for this.

Along the same lines, "if I hadn't lost the hardware for the sofa feet just now I'd be annoyed at how hard it is to haul this couch around, but now I'm just really grateful to have found the hardware and have the couch fully functional"

One of my favourite online plant people is posting a ton of pictures of his tomatoes and corn. There is nothing better than garden pictures and someone talking a ton about them.

I had the realization that mom is the only person I mask completely and totally around. That's... quite an insight and I'm glad I had it. I am interested to see where it leads me. I don't think she knows what I love? Do I want to tell her before she dies? Hopefully I have some years to get to that point.

I have a bedside lamp on my side of the bed now and it makes evenings so much more comfortable.

Today I read several pages of an actual book for the first time in so so so long. It was a bunch of the chapter on corn in Jack Lazor's The Organic Grain Grower and it felt so nice to be pulled into written words for a little while and it's always a relief when my brain does something it used to be able to do but mostly has lost.

I can hear rain through my open window. It's such a nourishing sound.

All these ducklings are a delight, and the snowblower duck mothers are pretty good at their job.

I don't understand my mom, at all, why she comes up here and we don't talk and she powers through all this work here, but I do really appreciate all the wood she's put into the woodshed and the tidying/cleaning/garbage runs we've got done. And I-- if we were visiting in an apartment she'd be hauling me out to hike or look at museums or something, and I do much prefer this sort of activity to that.

I'm grateful for the people I'll get to see over the next couple weeks, and I am enjoying my sense of anticipation to see them: Tucker and Angus this coming weekend, most likely J in the week or two after that, Avi at the end of the month, maybe Josh midmonth even.

Tucker has been making it easy to talk to him in the evenings. I treasure that, though I need to remember it means only what it means and no more.

Even though mom and I don't talk, I don't feel lonely. And I'm not annoyed by her being here so long, as I sometimes am. I think my well for ambient social was so empty and now it's refilling. I really am grateful it's turned out this way on all those fronts.

And now to sleep, in the dark that finally arrives while I'm still conscious to experience it. Grateful always for the seasons, for knowing that things will turn and turn again.

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