15 January 2015


A little bit of winter foliage from our backyard.

"We are laid asleep
      In body, and become a living soul:
      While with an eye made quiet by the power
      Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
      We see into the life of things."

William Wordsworth, 1888.

It's raining little bits of ice, more like heavy snow than hail, creating a tinny tapping sound on the old awnings over the windows. The heater is warm on my feet and I hear the washing machine rushing below; together these things all make a honey sort of white noise.  
I've got my knitting in hand as I watch a little Pride & Prejudice to pass the time before I switch the laundry. The house is asleep. Aside from the scampering of the kitties, I am the sole conscious being in the house. Last night, Aviva had a dream that she needed to become a grown up, that someone came up to her window and told her she had to grow up but it made her sad, as she just wanted "to be a child". It sounded both distressing and vivid and broke my heart. Joshua soothed her back to sleep. All I could think was just let them sleep and dream and be children. Just let them sleep a little longer before they have to grow up.


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