To give in the same measure

dillOur new kitchen faces east, and so now the day’s first light glides across our breakfast table, reminding us of our earth and its turning, turning. Morning is broken, says Jacob. If I touch the sunbeams, do I get a wish?  Continue reading

Wagon wheel

lentil saladBoxes: we are down to the last few. But those last few are the ones that, when opened, force you to think what, where, why, how, howhow on earth! or (better) how about over there? This evening I’m leaving them be: three weeks in and I’ve called a timeout on unpacking. Those last few things will find their place. This is supposed to be our ‘forever’ house – a few more days can’t hurt.  Continue reading