51

This morning I couldn’t help but think that everything is relative.

I was tucked in under my down comforter, feeling all cuddly and warm, except for the top of my nose. That was chilly. But it was the good kind of chilly.

When I got up, my feet were cold, but I didn’t get socks. I really love a cool summer morning. The kind where you have a sweatshirt over your t shirt and shorts while you drink coffee and listen to the birds sing, when the day is still clean and quiet.

These kind of mornings make me feel nostalgic for the carefree summers when I was a kid, sitting on my grandmother’s porch steps. The day was full of promise, it would warm up and still be summer.

The weatherman on TV said it was 51. That sounded about right.

And I thought about how different 51 feels, depending on the season.

In the fall, 51 might mean shutting the doors and windows at night, or having a fire in the morning to take off the chill.

In the spring, it might mean throwing those same doors and windows open to air out the house a bit after a long closed up winter.

In the winter, if I woke up and my house was 51, I would be a little freaked out. That would mean something was wrong with heat, pipes needed to be protected. It would be a stressful start to the day.

But this morning, 51 felt wonderful. No heat and humidity. I slept like a rock, tucked into my warm bed. I woke up refreshed and ready to start the day. I relished my hot shower, instead of trying to get as cool a one as I could bear, which was what the past few weeks had been like. The floors felt cool as I packed my lunch, and the air was clean as could be as I went out the door.

No jacket. 51 in summer feels delicious.

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What “spring” looks like here

So many posts showing early flowers and budding trees have me longing for spring. The growing kind.

We are having the melting kind.

It’s OK, but not as good as the growing kind.

EEEK! I used up all the free space

WordPress has told me I can’t upload any more photos.  I am sad.

 

I need to figure out the best route here – do I go through all the old photos and posts and make the pictures smaller?

Do I upgrade to a paid for version that lets me have oodles more space?

Do I go back and delete old posts?  I hate the thought of that a little bit more than I hate revisiting them all to make the photos smaller…

Decisions, decisions.

What do you all do?  Paid for or free?

How do you size photos from the phone so they aren’t huge, sucking up all the free space?

Spinning while I think

For those of you wondering what my last post was about, start with the blog post at the Fringe Supply blog about Karen’s plans to travel to India. Read the comments and follow the threads over to Instagram. Prepare to be educated, and prepare to be offered an opportunity to learn more.

Meanwhile, I did some quiet thinking and spinning this morning.

This is Aegean on wensleydale from the Purple Fleece. I started it this week and have enjoyed how it flys onto the bobbin.

Guilty

I blithely popped onto WordPress to read posts last night.

And had my mind blown up.

I awoke early this morning and followed up by going to instagram to see what more I could learn.

The fragments of my mind are swamped.

I am a white American woman.

I know I was raised to be biased against anyone not a WASP.

I know I have NO idea what it is like to not be raised as this person this way.

I try very hard to overcome this, and I am sure I often fail. I am more sure of this than ever.

I will try harder.

Guilty

I blithely popped onto WordPress to read posts last night.

And had my mind blown up.

I awoke early this morning and followed up by going to instagram to see what more I could learn.

The fragments of my mind are swamped.

I am a white American woman.

I know I was raised to be biased against anyone not a WASP.

I know I have NO idea what it is like to not be raised as this person this way.

I try very hard to overcome this, and I am sure I often fail. I am more sure of this than ever.

I will try harder.