Category Archives: friendship

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diy

The other thing that I think of with Sam is tools and do it yourself. He told me once that when he went to college, he wanted to learn everything. He had tons of both practical and esoteric knowledge. I took these pictures at Lake Matinenda… so for those of you who don’t know, what is this? Can you guess?

That summer I helped wire an outlet attached to this and helped float the raft in the correct position, which fine tuned my motor boat driving skills. I had to hold the boat in position in wind and waves, while Sam yelled over his shoulder at me and connected lines and wires and an anchor.

705matinenda&walnut 070

 

 

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play

I took this in 2005. My daughter is going after our friend Sam. She is wearing glow in the dark vampire teeth. He is going along with it and playing along. Three of us are playing because they are my glow in the dark vampire teeth. I have a strong connection with that playful inner child part and so I always have some toy in my dopp kit. Glow in the dark vampire teeth. Temporary tattoos. Glue and glitter for temporary tattoo stencils. A friend once looked in my dopp kit and was very surprised. His only contains toothpaste and toothbrush and razor and practical things.

Blessing on Sam and all the adults who play when the time is right….

dopp kit: http://shop.wingtip.com/why-is-it-called-a-dopp-kit

 

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transplant

A friend bought a house in Portland, Oregon. Last spring he was redoing the yard: all edibles.

“Wait,” I say, “what about the roses? Didn’t you say there are roses?”

“Yes,” he says, “Digging them up. Do you want them?”

“Yes!” I say.

I visit in Portland and drive back with three roses, roots but not much dirt, in a plastic bag. I think two are red. I plant all three in my front yard, with the deer fence. As high is is legal.

And here is the first bloom: an immigrant to Washington, a transplant, another color, a surprise! Lovely!

 

 

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The introverted thinker in the garden

My second earliest memory is between age three and four. We have moved to upstate New York, Trumansburg, and are living with my grandmother. I am old enough to know that I can’t pick random things outside and eat them. However, my grandmother has a currant bush: red currants.

I am amazed to see her picking and eating something outside. Does she not have to follow the rules? And then she lets me eat some. And I do not instantly die.

“You may pick them and eat them off this bush whenever you want.” says my grandmother.

I remember the color of the currants and the taste and the miracle of having permission to go eat something on my own recognizance, outside in the great wide wild world. I was so thrilled and entranced with the currant bush and my grandmother.

Here are red, black and white currants from the farmer’s market yesterday. I put them in a fruit salad with a honey melon that was so ripe that is dripped, and added apples and blueberries and lemon juice. Mmmmm, bounty. The tartness of the currants is delicious with the sweet melon.