We kind of do birthday months in the Burch household. On your birthday day you choose a treat and we all partake of it (Brooklyn chose pineapple whip and I chose Loblolly), but the whole month is a sort of ongoing celebration. There were Just Peachy balloons, a small outdoor gathering with grandparents (she agreed to share her party with Juniper on the condition she choose the cake - vegan vanilla chocolate - and the theme - unicorns), and general scattered sparkliness. It's a good way to start the summer, I think.
I recently looked up the rest of the Mary Oliver poem that ends in "tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" because that was the only part I had ever heard, and it turns out the rest of The Summer Day is about going for a walk and lying about in the grass. That's what she planned to do with her one wild and precious life. I feel like it gets misapplied a lot. As the weather grows cooler, I've been thinking about foraging, as a concept. I am a terrible gardener. Even as a child I loathed getting up early and tramping through the dewy grass to the dusty garden to water and pull weeds. As an adult, I stumbled onto the one plant that likes the climate of my front windows but claim no personal credit for their flourishing. If we ever move I may have to leave them here, to ensure their survival. There's also a pot of mint by my front step that survives on rain water or when one of the kids points out that it's a bit crunchy. Plants...
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