Every Wednesday Savanna, Primrose and I go to our good friends’, Barry and Donna White’s home for supper. We cherish this weekly routine as one of the only social events we do at all, especially during Covid Timez. Last week, I mentioned to Donna that my favorite pie is easily Pecan, and what the heck would ya know, she baked a Pecan Pie from scratch. It was the best darn pie I’ve tasted since living in Georgia! She gave us the half that was left after dinner to take home, I had a thin slice first thing this morning and two slices today. It was Savanna’s first time having Pecan, and now she can understand why it’s my favorite.
My prayer before eating the pie was simple. “Thank you God, for pie.”
I was trying to talk Savanna into baking a pie each week that we could have around to munch on but she thinks we’ll get fat, although I’m already thirty pounds overweight. I think I’ll have to take this one on myself.
We love living out here in the country, where silence is so loud it is like a real life character, an old friend who brings great wisdom. Today was a wonderful day. Warm (38 degrees), melting snow, buckets of rainwater to drink, I reseeded broccoli, Brussels, tomatoes, cauliflower; transplanted felt leaf willows and seeded marigold, cabbage, basil, nasturtium, calendula, toothache plant, baby’s breath and bee balm. Had a visit from a neighbor/friend who I always love to talk with. Sold a few eggs, harvested 25. Worked in the high tunnel with Primrose on my chest then set her on a big pile of straw that I was pitchforking into a sled to pull to the chicken coop. She sat in the sled with the straw and a huge smile on her face. I watched the puppy play with a ripped up sandal all over the yard, and listened to the two big dogs breath calmly from the living room floor. Savanna and I started reading a book aloud together Doctor Sleep by Stephen King, the sequel to The Shining. We are super psyched! We finished painting our bee boxes in preparation for the 28th, when the bees arrive, and Savanna made my new favorite soup, a French Onion. Being married to your best friend is the bee’s knees!
I absolutely love our slow and quiet days out here in the country. And while I wouldn’t mind spending our winters someplace warm where we can grow food and swim and enjoy the sunshine, if we are never able to leave here again I would be happy. I have always been a homebody, especially now that I have a home of my own. Here’s another poem, this one is about the often overlooked wisdom that comes from Silence.
Priceless Old Tool
Silence exists like rock in Earth,
Often mistaken as having no worth;
Trunks without treasure, useless old tools,
Silence avoided at prestigious schools.
Ice floe in layers over river beneath,
Fish swim in schools, chickadees peep;
Breeze rustles grasping cottonwood leaf,
Airplane flies over— silence beseeched.
Debate between sandbar and ocean a stream,
Of sound and expression, rip tides and screams;
Snore of two dogs, tea kettle steams
Frost inside window— seam between scenes.
Answers unheard with radio on,
Pandora playlist with favorite new songs;
Talking and talking to prove others wrong.
Secrets revealed in silence at home.