In a few moments, it will be Monday again. I hope that your weekend has been wonderful. Easter. Passover. Gorgeous weather. Growing peace in the midst of faith rocked to the core. Or even a bit of precious time to do something on your list, rather than all the other lists in your world. (Sometimes realism is useful!)
I spent my Easter moments planting seeds. Arugula, lots of lettuce, parsley, collards, kale, hoping against hope that whatever ate most of the last crop of collards will be somewhere else this year because I don’t do bug spray! Misting the seeds and a bit of composting, and a couple of cups of tea filled out my morning.
Today I felt the need for solitude and contemplation. Last week was intense. The next several will be more so. Not bad. Just intense.
And so I hummed along to a lovely recording of Handel’s Messiah. (Ok—I sang during the “Hallelujah Chorus”! Not well, but who can resist?)
I spent hours in a meditative state, with about three of those sticky lint roller things trying to get 12 tons of Newfie hair off my quilt which is, finally, finished!
And then I made soup. Experimental lentil soup in this case. No real recipe. Just lovely ingredients and habits I trust. Left over, local, grass fed lamb from our Easter feast. Organic, green lentils. Some of the finest stock vintages from the freezer. Experimental food is common around here. I’ll let you know how it came out!
Then there’s been the pollen! Green and slippery and despised. All over the porch and our cars and my kitchen counters. Washing, repetitively, hopelessly. This annual plague without which we would starve.
In a few moments, it will be Monday. Way less solitude. Lots of newness. And, hopefully, echoes of the “Hallelujah Chorus” beneath it all, played the way my friend Susan does. A more contemporary arrangement with a bit of extra kick.
I’m likely to need it!