ONE HEART
Look at the birds. Even flying
is born
out of nothing. The first sky
is inside you, open
at either end of day.
The work of wings
was always freedom, fastening
one heart to every falling thing.
PHOTO: Grackles flying over trees near Forest City, Iowa © DMBR
It’s been a busy year, and I’ve been working on this.
It’s my new business, site, blog, etc. Check it out: https://www.vaersaagod.com.
Top o’ the spring day mornin’ to ya!
… take all your trash with you and leave us alone.
Otherwise? I’ll find out where you live and dump all my garbage in your front lawn.
I’ve written about this before (two years ago to the day). I really don’t get it. An entire bag of fast-food trash? Really? I’m sure you’re “this” close to home. Why can’t you just hang on to it until you get there and put it in your own trash can? “Litterbug” is actually too nice a word. I prefer “litterpig” or “litterjerkhole.” Just stop throwing trash out your window. Please?
… I’ll send my love to it every day in a letter, sealed with a kiss.
Sigh. No, I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.
Our apple tree is loaded with apples this year. I’ve got to get into harvest mode soon. I might try making apple jelly this year.
What’s your favorite recipe for apples? Pie? Salad? What’s the craziest apple dish you’ve eaten? Let me know. I love new recipes!
This is one of my new favorites from my aunt. We ate these when we were in Missouri. Yum!
Aunt Carolyn’s Candy Apples
Ingredients
4 apples, peeled and sliced
A little water
Red Hots candy
1/2 cup sugar
Cinnamon
Place sliced apples in a skillet with a little water and heat. Cover with Red Hots. Stir only after juice from apples accumulates. Add sugar and cinnamon. Cook until soft.
The kids had a field trip to Heritage Park during summer school. Every time I go there, I see something new and different.
I love this pin, especially considering that they’d be serving lutefisk at the Heritage Festival the following weekend.
Related posts
Heritage Park
Train train, comin’ ’round, ’round the bend
Howdy neighbor, happy harvest, may your forty acres soon be fields of clover
