On a country road near my hometown is this sweet little structure. You used to be able to buy a bottle of milk here, brought over from one of the local dairies. I wish I had a picture from its heyday.
Monday, July 21, 2014
Friday, July 18, 2014
Monday, July 14, 2014
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
A weed is a flower growing in the wrong place writes George Washington Carver. Nothing gives me greater joy than seeing a wild snapdragon park itself in the vacant lot beside my apartment. Or a few clover stems dot the otherwise barren patch of grass beside my barn. Weeds aren't always invasive. Sometimes, they're not even weeds.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Brew tea. Add lemon, a sprig of mint. Maybe sugar, maybe not. Stir.
Leave everything out on the counter. The lemon, the mint, the cooling tea. Leave the kitchen. Let the scent of citrus and herbs follow you, on your hands.
Come back from wherever it is you've gone. Pour yourself a glass. Pour yourself two.