Karla Bonoff's "Home" keeps running through my mind in recent days. We're working on it for Bayview Sound's next performance, which is who knows when. We don't have a gig coming up very soon, though we're working on it.
As a renter, I don't have ownership of the place I live, except in my mind, though I am lucky enough to have landlords who want me to stay here forever. I can't afford to maintain a house on my current income so my wonderful landlords (who are moving to the island before long, from their home in California) are a true blessing. Don and Sheryl, wherever you are, I am grateful to you for your concern for this little house.
But "Home" certainly does sing me of sweet things: blackberry thickets at the edge of the property, acres of grass, big trees, lilacs, a tulip tree, an apple tree, a cherry, two plums, and a crabapple, plus what appears to be a flowering pear. Surrounded by forest on three sides, we are tucked back in here quite tidily, the little white cabin that welcomes me as I come up the drive.
Hope you enjoy the song. And sorry not to be publishing very often. Life is just plain crammed full. I head off to Blaine this afternoon to preach there tomorrow and spend time with my friends the Geers and other Blaine folks. But first I have to teach our fall UU101 class this morning, pack a few things, and figure out what to do about Max, who may be developing something, as he's rather quiet this morning, uncharacteristically.
Home, home, home again on Sunday afternoon, though.
1 comment:
I feel ya, Rev. Kit. I think about Georgia in the fall, strangely enough. It reminds me of home, something about the quality of light. But home is also my little highrise condo, which I won't see much of for the next few days while I rush towards two deadlines.
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