I want to say a public "thank you" to everyone who commented on my last post. I love that the people in my life are passionate and diverse. I love that you have felt welcome and safe enough in this forum to share your views and hope that you will continue to do so. Regardless of whether I agree with them or not.
I have removed the post not because I regret having written or shared it but because I have said my peace. I want to be sure that all the people who honor (or humor) me by visiting my life through this forum feel welcome but this particular subject matter is still a very raw and emotions are running high (mine included) and as self appointed boss of my KT's cyber world I am stepping in.
Please, please, keep talking about this and forgive me for removing my blog as the forum for doing so.
A wise man once said, "This will end after many dinner table conversations between loved ones, and sincere attempts to understand each others, attempts to reassure people that they don't need to fear all they've been told to fear. It's going to take people talking about it...A few people talk reasonably to a few of their friends, and slowly things change."
Compassion, compassion, compassion
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
My Private Pomegranate
I love pomegranates. I love the meticulous deconstruction and sweet reward of each morsel. I love pealing away the soft inner meat that protects the seed until I can remove it from its nest. The crimson stain on my fingers is a reminder of the complex assembly of this elaborate and mystical fruit.
I prefer privacy while enjoying my pomegranate allowing me to channel the fruit hungry brute inside. There I am, hunched over close to the fruit, fastidiously searching for every last bit of sustenance from within the rosy shell as the deep red juices drip down my arms and circle my mouth. Delicious. I can't wait for orange season.
Good people doing great things
Elliott and I are well taken care of. We have become those friends (and family) who always have to be somewhere else. There is no time to make time for taking time to just be and be with our people. Somehow through this neglect of our friends and family they still come through when we need them.
In early October I posted that our ceiling fell in. As if a call to arms, our friends came to rescue us from ourselves. During a Tuesday night debate I offered beer and a big screen TV in exchange for furniture moving and didn't really except anyone to show. After all, we can never make time for such activities. Alas, they came in droves. Thank you friends.
A few days later we had to get the drywall on the ceiling so the plaster guy could come and do his magic. Some timid favor asking around work, an invite to feed anyone who could help and once again our support army came to our rescue. Natalka and I put on our headlamps and emptied the garden of all the produce before the 1st frost (from which Natalka just whipped up a batch of salsa) while the boys began to tear away at the ceiling.
I didn't have high expectations, I just wanted the dust of a century of living sealed in its overhead crypt from whence it came. Quality was of no concern to this dust weary wife. I should have known better of Elliott and his manly group of men who decided all the plaster had to come down and they would need to drywall the entire ceiling, not the 8' I had signed these helpers up for.
Away they went, chipping at the overhead plaster. Occasionally they would emerge from the cloud of dust for fresh air, looking like coal miners and showing signs of the black lung. As the night went on, people continued to flow through the door and when the ceiling was finished at 2am (that is my recollection of the time), we had an amazing gathering of random people. That is my favorite kind.
Don't tell Elliott or my dad but for a brief moment I saw a little bit of the old summer Riggs gatherings as I stood in my own kitchen enjoying the company of good people who came to do a great thing.
I don't really know how to thank all of the peeps that cut their fingers, damaged their lungs, harvested produce, kept me company and relieved mountains of stress. I suppose it is my turn to rise to the occasion and stop being the person who has somewhere else to be.
Thank you, friends.
In early October I posted that our ceiling fell in. As if a call to arms, our friends came to rescue us from ourselves. During a Tuesday night debate I offered beer and a big screen TV in exchange for furniture moving and didn't really except anyone to show. After all, we can never make time for such activities. Alas, they came in droves. Thank you friends.
A few days later we had to get the drywall on the ceiling so the plaster guy could come and do his magic. Some timid favor asking around work, an invite to feed anyone who could help and once again our support army came to our rescue. Natalka and I put on our headlamps and emptied the garden of all the produce before the 1st frost (from which Natalka just whipped up a batch of salsa) while the boys began to tear away at the ceiling.
I didn't have high expectations, I just wanted the dust of a century of living sealed in its overhead crypt from whence it came. Quality was of no concern to this dust weary wife. I should have known better of Elliott and his manly group of men who decided all the plaster had to come down and they would need to drywall the entire ceiling, not the 8' I had signed these helpers up for.
Away they went, chipping at the overhead plaster. Occasionally they would emerge from the cloud of dust for fresh air, looking like coal miners and showing signs of the black lung. As the night went on, people continued to flow through the door and when the ceiling was finished at 2am (that is my recollection of the time), we had an amazing gathering of random people. That is my favorite kind.
Don't tell Elliott or my dad but for a brief moment I saw a little bit of the old summer Riggs gatherings as I stood in my own kitchen enjoying the company of good people who came to do a great thing.
I don't really know how to thank all of the peeps that cut their fingers, damaged their lungs, harvested produce, kept me company and relieved mountains of stress. I suppose it is my turn to rise to the occasion and stop being the person who has somewhere else to be.Thank you, friends.
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