moments of joy that i could cry during
a quick update for you. beginnings and ends tied together with red strings. [cover image {dishcloth on line 2} by mary pratt]
hello my friend[s],
i’ve missed you dearly. how are you? are you eating well? are you resting enough?
i am once again writing to you from the chair in the kitchen. p is making chive boxes in front of me {currently making the dough}. i have a freshly made vietnamese iced coffee. the music i’m playing on the speaker is drowned out a bit by the ice cream machine on the counter (who is doing its very best). chocolate ice cream is in the making. it’s 11:55 and i’m quite content.
this last week has been a strange one. i had my last day of work on friday. after ten weeks of working 45 hours a week with the same 2 kids, the routine was so established that i didn’t fully realize it was there. all of a sudden, things are ending. things are beginning.
i’m looking at bed linens for a room that doesn’t exist yet. for new shoes to wear to a class that hasn’t happened. for backpacks to bring books i don’t own yet. a hazy future that i [know] will happen.
last week the forest fires in canada have put a cloud of smoke over the sky. hurricanes have pushed strange weather to my city. fog covered the horizon for two days at 100% humidity. i could visually see how unstable my surroundings and future are. how unsure i am about everything.
i think about my best friend who is just as unsure as i am [[if not more. she too is about to live in a new city, but this is her year 1. we share quiet or mute conversations that begin with fears and worries\\ ending in promises to visit and ideas filling our brains of what we’ll do in each other’s city. i’ll forever be thankful for f.
for now, i wake every morning to exist in my day. since beginning this note, my sister’s chive boxes are done, my coffee is long gone [i’m still debating a second], my sister has napped on me, and i bought the future bed linens.
tomorrow i go to the art gallery to meet with a friend. in the evening, i’m going out for drinks with another [a goodbye for the summer and our time together]. my yesterday’s are filled with moments of joy that i could cry during in a desperate attempt to slow them. singing horribly with my siblings offkey, watching old videos, sleepy cuddles on the couch at 1 am, girlfriends visiting, dinners cooked together, facetimes gone until my phones too hot. all these moments tied up together with a tangled red string and wrapped in a bow. strings of fate bringing life together and people close.
i hope you’ve had moments like those recently.
for now, i will sign the end of my letter. there were very few thoughts presented in this note,{{ less imagery than before but this week felt like a middle ground. i’ve been so busy reading other peoples’ stories and thoughts to form my own. next week? who knows.
and so i wish you a good week ahead, i hope you had a relaxing day. take some extra time for yourself. always love.
xx delphi