We are not a family of grand festivities. Love is not contained to sanctioned days of the year, nor do we place higher expectations on a day simply because it has a title. Mother’s Day is just a day to my mom and to us, no different than any other. The difference lies in that we as a family show how much we care about each other throughout the year, and so spontaneous acts of kindness far outweigh orchestrated days of compassion.
My father always brings home flowers for mom, and thanks her for raising my brother and I so well. His secret superpower is, in my opinion, to always pick out the best flowers for the occasion. Unintentional, I am sure, but isn’t that the best way to show how much you care for someone?
Awakening in dauntless pleasure
Last night I had a very frank discussion with my family. Of the upmost value in life are, in my opinion; authenticity, translucency and silence. One should be real, wholesome and be obvious in who they are. Circumstance often dictates transparency be too brash, too cold or too bright in a dark environment and for that I value translucency; the ability to know what to speak and how to speak in any given circumstance. Silence, for knowing when not to speak and when to listen, learn or be still. These three qualities were not up for discussion, but rather how they may be applied to money.
I told my father that money is perhaps the most devalued object in our society, and though that statement was swiftly balked at with great passion, I believe that statement to be gruesomely valid. We have become enslaved by the dollar, so much so that a great swath of the population goes to work for the money, not for the purpose of work itself. Rare is it to hear of someone of the middle class waxing with charm of their job, instead someone is quickly made the wolf of the henhouse and met with great opposition. I am fortunate to not have had to work simply to make money, and I hope that is never my situation. I want to work because it satiates an obsession, not for the sake of running the treadmill. I truly hope that one day I have an obsession so potent it drives me to do something or change something in a way so bold it feels worth doing.
Gods and goddess of yard work
Does Martha Stewart do yard work? An avid reader of ‘The Martha Blog’, I regularly see things happening on the Stewart estate but rarely do I ever see Miss Stewart doing any of it. I envy her more every waking day.
I bring this up after a smattering of yard work around the house was necessary to welcome sweet (stifling) summer. Leaves raked, trees nipped and pruned, and numerous unyielding weeds pulled from the turf. My nana gave us one bleeding heart (Lamprocapnos spectabilis) plant, and quickly we have…far more than one. I love you, Nana.
We had to say goodbye to more than a fair amount of trees this year, lost to general old-age. A few small coniferous shrubs on the side of the house were removed, as well as a vine which never quite grew in the direction we wanted. It is always sad to cut down a living thing, but this gives us much more room for new things. We hope to plant lavender—either this season or the next—somewhere in the back yard, along with a few big, leafy trees for a place to read. I am very excited, but not too thrilled about the prospects of having to help with the labour. Miss Martha, can you spare your yard team for a moment?