One of the funny things about keeping a blog is that the sense of repeating oneself is increased. For one thing, you might launch into a story on the phone with a distant friend only to find she already knows about it, because she read it on your blog. This is disorienting. Although I occasionally get comments (which I love--thank you!) and have Google Analytics, I have a really hard time believing that anyone reads my blog. It's even more mind-boggling that someone I don't know personally might visit my site. Like you, dear reader, in Brazil. How did you get here?! And thank you for coming back again!
I also find myself addressing the same Deep Thoughts over and over, or the finding links between posts I remember writing, and whatever is on my mind while I write a new post. Recently, though, I found myself on the brink of writing an almost identical post to one of my very first posts. I cut a bunch of flowers from the yard and stuffed them into a pitcher. I usually put flowers in jars, which are never big enough to hold everything, and tend to topple over. So for some time, I've been on the lookout for a vase while foraging at Value Village. Finally, I found this pitcher that I adore. It's in awful shape, but I don't care. I had a hard time arranging everything. I thought about my friend Sarah, who has a preternatural gift for flowers (and most everything else that is beautiful and useful) and tried to think what she'd tell me to do. So I put some rocks in the bottom of the jar to act as a frog and that help. And as I continued stuffing everything in, I saw these: I thought at first there was some sort of seed pod that had gotten stuck to the leaf. But no, they were part of the leaf. And as the hamster started to run in the wheel in my brain, I had the most tremendous sense of déjà vu. And then I remembered this post entitled Answers, which answered my question. Fancy that! Just to be sure of myself, I googled "wild rose galls" and found this. How satisfying!
The flower arrangement has drooped and now has peonies from the neighbors' yard, but it looked like this. The pitcher is especially pleasing because it has lilies of the valley, and lately the charm to soothe my savage little beast at bedtime is singing "White coral bells." Such a light, pretty, magical tune. I've also been singing her favorite song from the Kid Songs CD, "I'm Going to Leave Old Texas Now," which I love to sing. It's breezy and soulful and simple, and puts me in touch with my inner Texan.
It's my third to last week at my job, and my head and heart and To Do pile are full. June is, somehow, almost over, and I feel like life is hurtling forward. Friday, it'll be July already. And that means that my BFF will be here soon, to visit her family in our hometown, and to have a birthday party. I am so excited I can hardly stand it. This evening as I walked in the yard, I thought, "It's warm enough to have a beach fire on Yeomalt Point," not remembering for a moment that we are not 15 and she lives 3000 miles away. And thinking about her, I think how incredibly blessed I am in the way of friends. I've not always had an easy time fitting in with my peers. But there have been few moments in my life that I've been without the wisdom, compassion, humor and companionship of true friends. This moment of my life is no exception, and I feel my luck daily. If I chance to forget, my tea bag reminds me. Thank you for listening.