I find myself in an interesting position. A month or so ago, a woman joined our choir. She was someone I’d seen at church several times, and I perceived her to be not glad to see me— things like refusing to hold hands with me (but holding hands with her husband and kids) when our community typically holds hands to pray, not quite having time to shake my hand at the sign of peace, and edging away from me in the pew, if we ended up in the same pew.
Can I just tell you how magical it seems to me that you can take vegetables and turn them into really awesome fertilizer for… vegetables? We have awful soil quality, in Colorado. Our soil is mostly clay mixed with some sand. It seems largely devoid of nutrients, and when paired with our unstable weather patterns (yes, there will be snow in May, just no telling how far into May it will go. Yes, it could snow again as soon as Labor Day, in the metro area, or it could be mostly lovely well into December,though there will be hard freezes in there, make no mistake. It could also be 100 degrees in mid-June, we could be dry all summer or have a stretch of unseasonably cold rainy weather. There will be hail. Nobody, including the local meteorologists, know for sure, from day to day.) it means gardening here is no joke.
In my day job, one of the things I do is convert video-recordings of presentations given at my organization’s live events and turn them into OnDemand products.
So how’d it go?
My chocolate shake powder ran out with this morning’s shakes. I’m not even sure we have enough of the vanilla for two shakes for tomorrow. The fiber powder has been gone for a few days, and we’re coming to the end of our other products as well.
A young person I love very much is struggling right now. He just graduated high school, and was very sure about what he wanted to do and how it intersected with how he saw himself. He set off in that direction, but despite some success, it wasn’t what he thought it would be, and he didn’t like who it asked him to be. With some reluctance, he turned away from what had been a dream he was sure was right for him. He was confident that we’d all be disappointed, but many (I hope all, but I won’t speak for all of the many people who love and support him) of us care more about who he is than what specific vocation he chooses.
I’m speaking a week from today, 5-7 minutes of an entertaining story about someone else’s experience. This is running just a touch long (and I have to figure out if I’m going to sing the segment of the Dan Fogelberg song [at 7 a.m., through my speaking nerves, a capella. Piece of cake. I only forget how to breathe when I sing solos in public.] or try to play it, but if I play it, it eats about 30 seconds of my speaking time, so I think I’m going to try to sing it and speed it up.) I welcome your thoughts. It’s a first draft, and though I’m painfully close to it, I’ll try to hear constructive criticism.