The Reality of It

ThonPickupLest anyone think from all of these Pollyanna-Meets-Laura-Ingalls-Wilder posts about getting the garden started and building compost sheds that I’m some sort of homesteading hipsturbian amalgam of Alice Waters and Bob Vila, let me just bring it back to reality with this. Should we take the little old pickup truck? No, the wood and stuff can definitely fit in my car. Ok. Well, it’s true, the wood CAN fit in the car, but only if we fold all the seats up like origami, take out front visors and headrests, oh, yeah, and if Mama rides in the back lying down under the two sheets of plywood. Oh my goodness we laughed all the way home. What a good way to start the weekend.Mamainthecar


Author: loiseaufait

Little by little the bird feathers its nest, and object by heart burnished object we surround ourselves with lovely necessities of memory and function. It is these things that make a silly Apartment a Home or a silly Wednesday an Occasion. Whether my nest is an old farmhouse, a sixth floor tenement walk up, or a brownstone basement... whether I share it with family, vagabonds, women of heart and mind, or a little brown cat and a sweet ginger banjo, my principal joy is filling it with light and laughter (and corralling).

One thought on “The Reality of It”

  1. To quote Dr. Seuss, “Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!” Such big fun.

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