why i love weekends


every time i go to band practice, joy grows. i was playing soprano with brigitte for kutambarara, and realizing in wonderment that this is another dream come true. another, how did i get here? wow. we were playing and orion was scuttling around under the instruments, chasing his bright orange ball. rob was wearing a headband, sideways, on his neck, with two springy antennae poking off of it that had little pink ballerinas at the top (orion had just found it for him to bring home for his daughter). everyone was bouncing or tapping or dancing to some degree. and joy was growing.


why i love weekends…

musicians on the beach. canoeing. endless water. habité sur la mer. finding moonsnail nests. then, while we’re canoeing, steve making up band names like ‘moonsnail nest’ for his (imaginary) ska band, then song titles such as ‘jedi skipping stone’ (when i pointed out ‘moonsnail nest’ didn’t sound like a ska band, he then turned it into ‘moonsnail nest destruction’, which, though perhaps more fitting, didn’t sound so great). cooking oysters over campfires on small islands that we paddle to in canoes. making oyster mushroom oyster soup in oyster shells! (wa-oow!). portaging one canoe with four people. friends. starting fires on the beach with a scrap of birchbark and twigs. getting dirty with salt and mud and seaweed. learning new beautyfull songs from friends you haven’t seen in months. laughter. big and deep. gathering our dinner (albeit a not perfectly balanced one). sunset on the water. in a canoe. week-old baby robins waiting for mama to come home with worms. band practice. josie and sophia talking about ‘manly horses’ at band practice. too much laughter from the talk of manly horses. rambling walks through the forest at dusk along fallen trees and deer trails, in search of sunset, but finding a field of wildflowers instead. a crowded bunch of humans packed onto the back deck of the ferry between totes and dollies and coolers, watching orcas breach in the sunshine. meeting anna coming off the ferry, saying, ‘it’s zo’s birthday tomorrow, i’ll pick you up on my way and we’ll have a date!’ bright green salmonberry leaves glowing backlit and fluttering. then – the dazzling sharp burst of not-quite-ripe salmonberry in my mouth. lying on the pebbled beach in the late afternoon sun, listening to the waves pound the shore. jaya and colin eating the roses at zo’s birthday party. anna and sho dreaming up ‘imagination parties’ (and oh my i cannot wait until one of these happen). playing guitar on the beach as L is rambling about talking on her phone – one of the few places she gets reception (later she comes over and is wearing a tutu and baggy black t-shirt because she hasn’t done laundry in awhile). playing guitar with john, shawn on harmonica, and carson lying on the couch cheering us on while recovering from laser-eye surgery. playing guitar at zo’s and singing with robin as she plays all the 80’s pop songs she can remember. being easy with friends you’ve known for so long. being easy in community. singing along to potential guitar songs on my ipod as i tramp back and forth through the woods, hauling firewood. getting a good chunk of firewood bucked up. living in the woods. getting work done on the homestead. three-year-olds birthday parties. seraphina walking around carrying a chicken almost the size she is. discovering that it takes less than two weeks for baby robins to go from bright blue egg to fledged from the nest. finnelli-dog making off with my socks and sleeping on them for the night. plusieurs d’amis je peux parler français avec. walking home along the dirt road after bathing in the wonder of community, giggling. 


what do you have to be grateful for? do you think about it every day? i think, i hope, i believe, that if we do, it manifests all the more wonder.


i have discovered a way to feel bad about how little building i’ve gotten done – all i need to do is go check out all the wonder david has been creating. and this is just his lumber shack. oh boy.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s