The future feels like a lasso around my shoulders… tugging, tugging…
My farming friends are putting fall crops in the ground. We’ve been harvesting these Sahara Rudbeckia, which feel like autumn in a bucket. Stocking the woodpile is on Mark’s already long list of house to-do’s. It might be 90° and humid as bathwater, but the next season is well on its way.
My big belly won’t let me forget it. There’s going to be someone joining our family in about 6 weeks. 🤯
Baby will come, and then the dahlias, and then the cold. I can’t stop it. I wouldn’t want to, even though I’m unsure and afraid (and I don’t share that needing reassurance—it’s just what’s true).
The thing about the future is that it’s always unknown and it’s always coming. There are plenty of things that can’t be prepared for, a lot of them good.
We’re doing our best juggling lots of tasks and lots of hopes and our share of fears—maybe you, too. Wishing you shade to sit in and things like buckets of color to slow time down, even if just for a minute. 🌼