Some of my favorite flower photos get left behind; I don’t have the space for all of them. This is my flower of the morning three mornings ago. It got lost in the turmoil.
It’s another beautiful day. I’m going to the Cambridge Food Pantry to take my weekly photos of the food truck arriving from the pantry bank in Albany. Maria is coming separately to help with stacking.
My next Mansion meditation class is on Monday. I miss the crew; they’re off to Walmart this Friday. Tomorrow, I have my Blog Zoom and am also going to the dentist to get a crown for my implant. My big mouth will be full of teeth again.
Thanks for all the messages announcing your own “Yay-Day” for yourselves. It is a good idea.
(Zip marches by the gate every morning, his way of letting us know he’s in charge.)
I’m already a narcissist – most writers are – but the stronger I feel, the more good I can do for the world. That’s a good reason to stay alive and healthy. Thursday might be a “Yay-Day” for my country and my life. One affects the other, doesn’t it?
Fanny is limping badly. We think she has a foot abscess. Matt, our farrier, is coming over for a look.
The hens find shade under the lilac bush.
Fate is always ready, but for what?
Grazing is always a beautiful thing to see.
Some color from the garden bed.
‘Through the dancing poppies stole a breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.” – John Keats.
I’m grateful for my flowers and my farm, which help me stay grounded at a time when so many people are frightened, angry, or otherwise upset.
Like everyone else, I am concerned about our country and who might be chosen to lead it. I acknowledge the fear and look for acts of goodness, beauty, and peacefulness. I just won’t let it take me over. Life is so much bigger than us and our many flaws.
My pantry work grounds me, as do the wonderful refugee children we got to college – all of them – and the Mansion residents whose needs we have tried to meet. It is meaningful to give food to people in need.
(Signing Out, Good Night, see you in the morning.)
And the animals teach me acceptance every single day.
Now, we are undertaking another challenging task: helping the food-deprived eat what they want. It feels good, grounding, and calming. That’s what I do with my fear; I take it and use it to do some good.
This is a place of safety, thoughtfulness, and respect. It took a while to get here, but we are here, and I am grateful for us. It makes everything better. Color and light are among the world’s great healers. Living beyond fear is liberating; it sets us free from something no one can take from us.
The color is red.
The sun brought out the pink.
“I survived, carried on, glad to be like a weed, a wild red poppy, rooted in life.” —- Marilyn Buck
Flower heart.
They were firing beauty up into the sky.
Black Susan is one of the last this year.
Maria met a friend, and I made myself lunch – focaccia bread with cheese, fresh peaches, and snap peas. I went outside to sit in my Amish Adirondack chair and slipped into a trance between sleep and dreaming. It was the most beautiful afternoon of the year for me.
It was cool and dry, and the wind was terrific. It kept the bugs away and made me want to sit there forever. It was the kind of wind that feels like an angel rubbing the sides of my face.
There was an intense sun for the photos. I always look for the light.
Last week, when the heat dome visited us, I couldn’t go outside for several days.
My cardiologist told me to get a blood pressure and heart reader and record the test results for two weeks.
Doctor Daraban is fiddling around with my medications, thinking one of them was causing trouble with my Ozempic. I’m relieved; I thought I might be having heart problems. It’s possible, but when I stopped taking one meditation at her suggestion, I felt great as she suspected that I would.
I would tell Maria we should drag some sleeping bags out and sleep under the stars tonight. She would do it in a minute. I’ve changed my mind.
I sat there for a long time; it was close to paradise. When I woke up, Maria was coming home and was looking for flowers in the pasture. She likes to give some to me and take some into her studio.
I had my camera; I followed her passage into the marsh. I knew she was looking for wildflowers, and Zinnia loved to tag along with her.
It was a beautiful sight. She sat with me for a while, but I couldn’t get up. I sat there longer and counted my blessings. We talked, and then she had to go back to work.
Rubbing Lulu’s ears, carrying her bouquet of wildflowers. Donkeys love to have their ears rubbed
We are bringing out food for our composter.
This is what I saw looking in my chair for more than an hour. Getting up was hard.
I have a blackbird friend who likes to sit on a pole near me and listen. I hope he likes what he hears, and I will miss him.
As we approach the Fourth of July week, the situation at the Cambridge Pantry is, as usual, urgent. Families are in desperate need of food for the holiday, and the pantry is struggling to keep up. Below are some sobering statistics.
Director Sarah says they’ve been ‘cleaned out, ‘ and some shelves are emptier than ever. The pantry will be open for service every day but Thursday, and we need your help filling some of those empty shelves.
Any assistance, no matter how small, will make a difference and will be deeply appreciated.
For today’s request from Sarah: Baked Beans and Clam Chowder Soup, see the links below.
At the Army of Good, our philosophy is based on the idea of small acts of great kindness inspired by St. Terese and her good works for the poor.
We can’t supply everything the pantry needs; we can do the best we can, and so far, that is making an enormous difference. I can’t thank you enough.
People do what they can; no one is pressured to do what they can’t.
I’ve been going through the stats on hunger in America: Overall, one in eight households (12.8 percent) experienced what is called “food insecurity,” which in English means hunger. An estimated 44.2 million people live in these holds.
Here are Sarah’s requests for today:
Campbell’s Chunky Soup, New England Clam Chowder, 16.3 Oz Can (Case of 8), $15.68.
Van Camp’s Original Baked Beans, Canned, 15 Oz, Pack of 12, $16.20.
(Sue and Sarah, hauling boxes)
I admit to being taken aback by the depth of the hunger crisis, but I am happy we have found a mission that will do so much good for a small amount of money. I hope we can help this holiday weekend.
According to Frac’s Hunger and Poverty site The Food Research And Action Center), one in 20 Americans (5.1) experienced “low” food insecurity, where households report regularly skipping meals or reducing intake because they could not afford more food. Over one in six families with children (17.3 percent) could not afford the food they need, an increase of 40 percent compared to 2021.
