Wednesday, August 1

her hands hold beautiful things

her hands hold beautiful things

sx-70 camera, polaroid 600 expired film


I'm so tired. Cedar wakes up at 3 sometimes and complains softly for no reason I seem to be able to fix. It's hard doing things one-handed all the time. He doesn't want to be put down. We left a cushion outside and it got rained on. The hummingbird feeder needs to be filled, again. It's hard to drive anywhere since I have to pull over to nurse him if he starts crying, and I never know if that will happen or not, or where I'll be, or if he'll be so distraught that his whole day will be thrown awry.



her hands hold beautiful things

sx-70 camera, polaroid 600 expired film


The farm-share vegetables are perfection.  I picked my way to a tizzy at the farm's pick your own flower field and now there are bouquets all over the house. My visiting friend made a potato-dill salad yesterday to die for. We baked an entire local free-range chicken for dinner. I found a purple dress I forgot I had. I have a whole book of new stamps ready to paste onto letters I haven't written yet. The baby is a dream when he is sleeping and heavy against my body. He gets the funniest faces when he knows I'm about to nurse him.


And that's how it goes, the sour and the sweet, all day long.






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