what they can hold

 

 

 

 

 

treasures found in the basement of this here rental. old bottles. royal blues are my favorites, from "emerson drug, baltimore, md" Ancestor love. Whispers from my grandparents and great-grandparents found in my basement. Washed and put up so sunlight can flood through and bless this space.

Putting Things By (a harvest series)

August is the month for courage. Shifts in light and reason. Sound. peepers, cicadas. "Mom, it was so cold in the middle of the night I had to put a sweatshirt and pants on." J actually pulls the covers on. Sun's setting around 8pm. Meteors cruise on by and time stands still. For some (the lucky ones, daresay) it even hiccups. and a chance for reinventing and reorganizing and re-invisioning and even, re-asoning occurs (add an 's' there and I'd be happy, as mine is notoriously tiny *wink wink* :). Reasoning, and rationalizing the separation from sun and the start of another something.  This is how it happens here. in our family's time. Leaves dance in the breeze- the maples, especially seem to be waving goodbye. And around we go. trying to remember our stored up knowledge of how to prepare for the winter. In this house (as well as in every other home we have owned, rented or squatted in together), during the harvest time, as a family, we can. Food, that is. As much as we can can, we do can. And so can you can. I hope to, in some photo installments, show you what August looks like here. In our new place. Which will soon enough be our old place...Wherever we call home, we put things by. It is a human thing to do. So, my hope is to document our putting comforts up and storing them away for when the sun isn't as bright. I'm not sure if the posting will last, but I'm in the mood to create and share, and....my daughter asked me, "Mom, why don't you write and put pictures in a blog anymore? They were beautiful." And really, this is for her. For them. All of it. Because "I Can." (harty har. a chotch of a pun if I do say so.)