Muckle smoke out there.
Noticed it on my way home, off to the west side of the valley last night. The Green Ravine fire, apparently. Definitely smoky. The field reporter has a very particular local accent, if you can get past the ad.
Got the sale soil sown around the important perennials, filled a pot and planted indoor catgrass. Sitting and sweating at the moment.
My neighbor came over to give me a hug, we talked about the issues of families, and the vagaries of love and children.
My hand somehow caught the lid of my brown teapot, it flew off and smashed on the floor, it is now in pieces at the bottom of the pot of soil for catgrass. I swore a bit, then picked up the bits. Teapot lids are a persistent design problem. Along with spouts and handles. It's a tricky bit of geometry and pottery together, if it is to be used.
"All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."
All well used teapots are alike, each unused teapot is dribbly, leaky, chipped or broken in it's own way.
Anna Karenina Principle..
What is surprizing is not how many broken families there are, but how many are happy.
2 comments:
It seems to be a day for wordsmanship (see Val's post): "Muckle smoke.."and "..sale soil sown." Bravo!
Agree about the happy families, the misery of the world is easy to trace while the persistence of hope and sweetness seems much less likely. I love an underdog.
Post a Comment