Rucksack Evolution

Sleep didn't come easy last night, so I woke up a bit late. There was no work available to speak of, unfortunately, but there was plenty of other things to do. I snuck out first to drop the wasp specimens off at the WSDA, then I couldn't help myself -- I popped into the yarn shop to grab two more skeins for yet another project that popped into my head. Cleaning, the monthly kitty flea treatment, and then a long afternoon on the balcony knitting and listening to a good book. Quite lovely and peaceful.  I cast off on Midwinter gift scarf #1! I need to weave in the ends and decide how to finish it...fringe, perhaps? Of course, as soon as I finished this I pulled out more yarn! Not as pleasant to work with, as it's 100% cotton so a bit rough on the fingers. But, it's the best choice for dish cloths...which is what these are destined to be! Of course, listening to a good book through the library app makes it more pleasant, even when knitting with rough...

I was up shortly after the sun, bright and clear in the sky as the cool morning air of late August wafted through the window and over my desk. I decided on a light work load, not feeling the urge to shed words on inane topics for clients I will likely never meet. Instead, focus on a simple series of tasks: Laundry The week's lunch soup Homemade bread The joy of having soup for lunch everyday is that it's warm, homey, and simple. Plus, it's an excuse to use up all the odds and ends in the produce drawer before they spoil. Today's pot is a smoky lentil soup, filled with spinach, celery, carrots, parsnips, leaks, overripe tomatoes, and a few other bits and bobs. Living in a mild climate, we can enjoy soup year round, although the type is much lighter in the heat of July compared to the thick stews of January. The smell of baking bread adds the perfect touch of homeyness as I sit on the balcony, knitting behind the screen of tomato plants and listening to...

Although we are still about three weeks out from the equinox, a hint of fall is in the air. The first of the leaves have begun to fall, likely those weakened by the normal dry season. The light has taken on that look, that rich golden hue that only occurs as we begin to descend into the harvest season. Today was a day of gifting. Mo and I made the rounds, dropping off items we no longer needed on the porches of lucky recipients -- members of our local buy nothing group. We receive what we put out into the world. I have to believe that. So good, good and hope, that is what must be put out into the world. I spent my evening with a beloved magazine, a beloved person, and a beloved trail through the local wood. I harvest a tomato from the balcony garden, several more will be ripening in the coming weeks. We enjoyed a simple dinner of spinach pizza and sliced tomatoes. I have plans brewing in my head, too soon to put them here. It's not a grand plan, but a simple one. Nat...

Rituals. Traditions. The rhythm of the year. I am having issues with these. When I was young, my traditions were those of my parents. Unfortunately, they didn’t really jive with my values. My family’s traditions were deeply rooted in the consumerism cascade that started in my mother’s 1950s home and followed her into my 80s and 90s upbringing. There was no real nod to religion in our secular home, but easter meant overflowing baskets of summer toys and Halloween meant lots of candy, while Christmas brought on my mother’s competitive gift giving expeditions and odd need for “fairness.” (The value, amount, and physical size of the gifts my sister and I received had to be exactly the same. This meant we often received useless items in the spirit of being “fair.”) The lesser holidays were not as consumer driven, but I am not comfortable with patriotism bordering on nationalism or the overt racism that they embody. Thanksgiving? No thank you, we do not celebrate genocide or colon...