Archives
29/05: Words to remember -
Yesterday we fed a meal to a family at the inter-faith shelter. The meal itself was in a large gymnasium like room at the Methodist church that we had only been in before for rummage sales. Like many churches, banners with religious slogans hung on the walls with the tens commandments, and a whole host of Sunday school projects, all of which the girls stared at with wide, inquisitive eyes. The banners brought out many statements and questions from both the girls - the most memorable from Zoe being "this must be one of those religions that believes in God." The girls found a new modern english version of the bible, which intrigued them, and they acted out the story of Adam and Eve among the swing sets and tire swings (Zoe was the voice of God).The church brought out many questions in the girls: many of which I had a hard time answering. The Trinity for instance. Zoe asked "how can god be both the father and the son?" and "What arethe stations of the cross?"
True to her nature, Lizzie remained quiet, soaking everything all in until we were half way home and she broke the silence of the car as we passed the Dairy Shoppe and the light was fading. Her little voice stated plainly from the back seat "sometimes I wonder about heaven, and death, and what will happen when I die.... and it's kind of overwhelming."
23/05: Spring wood
Memorial day is here, and the days are perfect, sun-dappled and sprinkled with the scent of purple – lilacs and money plant in full bloom. But at the same time as the lilacs Mr. Atwoods comes, with cords of hard-wood, cut and split and ready to move in to the basement. The lawns chairs sit empty, and instead we toss wood around. Mr. Atwood tells me as we unload his pick-up that the average piece of wood is moved eight times before it makes its way into he fire. This seems about right, I think, as I heave the wood of the back of the truck and into the cellar door, knowing it has at least two more moves before it is consumed by our Vermont Castings “Defiant” this winter. By then it will have had a summer of seasoning. He tells me as we unload that it has been a good year for wild leeks, springing up along his maple line that shoots west from his sugarhouse. I resolve to try these culinary exotics, but he warns me that there string scent makes your breath unbearable. “my mom would tell my dad – you’ve been in the wild leeks again, your sleeping on the couch tonight.” They can be little worse than the baby garlics I have been weeding from the garden and putting into almost every dish that makes its way to the table.It is also, of course, garage sale season. I delighted Lizzie by bringing home an old “Western Chief” scooter. It appears to have been manufactured in the fifties, it is painted in powder blue and white with a red pin stripe on the wheel. She is happy to have a scooter that is “at last her size” and in the evenings long shadows the girls make their way up and down the road in front of the house – Zoe on her big scooter, and Lizzie on her Western Chief.
