cling to what is good

There were birthdays.

 

 

We can now make lunch from the weeds growing on our street.

 

Chickweed.

Plantago.

 

Violets.

 

Salade de la rue.

 

Yesterday, after Fille's open class, I sat around the neighboring ballet store with her for an hour while she tried on every leo in the inventory, it seemed. 

 

She was presenting this dove-grey, backless thing for a second time, toward the end of performing an entire port de bras to see if there was any danger of clutching (there had not been, but it is good to be certain).  Her brother came in to meet us at the appointed time, flushed & busy-in-his-brain with the being-ness of 14, and he stopped by me, before her.

"Wow, Fille.  That's a nice leotard."

 

Coming from him, that is what we call an accolade.  I mean, first he had to notice it, then he had to form his mouth to compliment, in the moment.  Wow.  All I'd had to say was "It makes you look like the Chrysler Building!"

 

That was a compliment, too, yk.

 

Anyhow, I said to her, "That is the one you are getting! You must! Let's go!"

 

My thoughts go out to Justine, who writes The Lone Home Ranger, who may well be having a challenging time of talking through the parenting today.  Bonne chance.

 

Adrienne Rich, from the same-named book.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[nancyblackett]

hallelujah on unsolicited compliments.