I live alone with my preschooler in an off-grid cabin on a remote island off the coast of British Columbia.
"Don't wish me happiness I don't expect to be happy all the time....It's gotten beyond that somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humor. I will need them all." Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Monday, 6 April 2015
Dry firewood and more firewood
I danced unapologetically beneath the watching trees in my yard. My feet kicked up under my long skirt and my daughter laughed. I felt delirious with ecstasy. I picked her up and together we swayed like the wind in a tree. She giggled and then my hair tumbled down my back when the hairpins I had been wearing fell out. I have firewood. I have been waiting for awhile for Mr. L who finally came by right on island time and cut up the snag I had paid to get fallen several months ago along with some other logs. Seeing the bucked up wood fills me with great joy. It means warmth in this home we share with peace, kindness and gentleness. As soon as I gave Mr. L his money and after he had left I pulled out my splitting maul, wedge and sledge hammer. It's been awhile since I've used these tools. I broke open the first block and the sweet intoxicating scent of cedar drifted in and around me and I realized parts of it were still dry even after several months of waiting in the rain on the forest floor. I stood there momentarily motionless breathing in the heady scent and then I promised the tree I would try to live as beautiful as it once was before the storm that brought most of it down. And then I thanked God who made the tree.
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