Skip to main content

It has been an eventful week:
A dislocated shoulder,
A two year old escapee discovered in the street,
An emotional eight year old, overwrought with homework,
Philosophical conversations regarding the direction of Montessori and a possible marriage to the Reggio-Emilia approach,
A puppy (need I say more),
Back to work,
And the normal activities: house cleaning, bread baking, grocery shopping, meal fixing, sheet washing, laundering, child caring, dish doing, active listening, disciplining, all mixed in with a stiff shot of full throttle mother loving...
Is it any wonder that I have been remiss in writing?

Comments

Anonymous said…
I know it was! I hope you have a much more pleasant weekend - no surprises.

Kathryn
January 10, 2009 at 2:52 PM
Anonymous said…
I had no idea about your shoulder - I am sorry! That must have been so difficult. I am always available to help out in any way, for any reason! I, too, hope your weekend is more calm and relaxing. I was admiring your blog and Kathryn's this evening, as well as enjoying all that you both had written, and have shared them with Frank who is admiring as well. He thinks I most definitely must give it a try.
January 10, 2009 at 11:20 PM
Angelina Lloyd said…
Yes Carla... you must join in the fun!
January 11, 2009 at 3:52 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

grief

Grief is defined as a deep or intense sorrow. I have been thinking a lot about grief, about it's wide and sticky reach, about the watery quality of it's absorption and the agonizing effort of swimming to shore. Intense sorrow happens. It is a part of life. Yet we press against it. We try to eradicate it. How? We encapsulate our grief in a story, thus effectively removing us from the immediacy of the pain. The mind promises salvation and begins to tell a story, over and over and over. We listen to the inner ramblings, the constant diatribe, the neurotic attempt to avoid the experience. When someone is hurting we listen to their story, we talk about it, we recount our own story, but we certainly don't jump in the waters of sadness, instead we sit on the bank of our familiar longing. Once, when I was floundering in deep grief, my youngest brother knelt next to me and held me for over an hour. He didn't speak. He didn't commiserate. He just jumped in the
4 comments
Read more

a story recently shared by a friend

 Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love. Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment. When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help. Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, "Richness, can you take me with you?" Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you." Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!" "I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered. Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you." "Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself
7 comments
Read more

Inosculation

I learned a new word today!  Imagine my joy to discover "inosculation", to taste the word for the first time, rolling it around the soft interior of my mouth before speaking it aloud with a shiver of delight.   I am a lover of trees, not metaphorically but literally.  I linger beneath their branches. I tear up beside their solid beauty and revel in the rough, steady touch of bark beneath a wide sky.  I love learning anything new about my beloveds and today I discovered inosculation , which literally means to unite intimately. Sometimes trees grow so close to each other that they rub up against one another.  The friction of bark on bark wears away at the hard outer layers, revealing a tender, vulnerable, embryonic layer of life.  If they stay in contact through the friction they will join together, uniting into a third thing....  a tree union.  In such cases the trees share their life force with one another.  I can think of no more perfect metaphor for beloved companions.   Th
Post a Comment
Read more