James and I returned home from Haiti more than two weeks ago. It feels good to be back in Portland, to be back in our home. It’s that view that always brings me back and swaddles me in homeishness. You know the one, as you head south on I-5 and you pass over the Willamate. You look down at Portland below with its lights, warm… and their reflections dancing in the water. That’s the view that lets me know I have returned to the town I was born in. To the town I was born to live in. After a week of snow and rain and coffee and beer and sweat pants and Netflix’s finest we decide it is time to get back to the farm. and wow what a mess…
But what fun to clean and organize, to wake our farm from its slumber. I imagine many of you know what it is like to dive into a project and never look back. How it no longer becomes work but a personnel vendetta to rearrange the furniture in a cluttered space or perhaps preparing a perfect meal just for yourself. I love the delightful refuge of simple meditative tasks. Season number two here we come… Dirty hands, Clean Hearts.