Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Poem for Tuesday and Homestead Farm

Where We Are
By William Stafford

Fog in the morning here
will make some of the world far away
and the near only a hint. But rain
will feel its blind progress along the valley,
tapping to convert one boulder at a time
into a glistening fact. Daylight will love what came.
Whatever fits will be welcome, whatever
steps back in the fog will disappear
and hardly exist. You hear the river
saying a prayer for all that’s gone.

Far over the valley there is an island
for everything left; and our own island
will drift there too, unless we hold on,
unless we tap like this: “Friend,
are you there? Will you touch when
you pass, like the rain?”

--------

It was raining Monday morning, but stopped before noon and turned into a not-too-cold, somewhat windy day. I mostly did unexciting work things, though I got out for Giratina and Shinx raids and I finally, finally got my gold gym battle badge (I don't really like fighting or throwing people out of gyms). I ran into a neighbor with whom I had a long conversation, and I got 1/3 of a laundry done, and had cold cats plant themselves in my lap.

We caught up on Sunday night's Doctor Who, which I enjoyed a lot ("I call people 'Dude' now" is a very Eleven line though she said it the way I think Ten would have, and I loved seeing a Trump surrogate repeatedly put in his place by more competent women, though the weekly story didn't really feel like it got wrapped up). And I loved the Wicked special! Here are some of Homestead Farm's animals and fruit from our visit on Sunday:

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2018-10-28 16.14.17

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2018-10-28 16.01.04

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