Lord but I've felt rich today. I always feel rich but some days I FEEL it all the way to my bones. Those are the good days.
I felt rich when I was hanging my clothes and needed more clothespins and knew I had some in the house, brand new and never been used. I felt rich, just having the clotheslines to dry my clothes in the hot summer breeze.
And of course I'm rich with my washing machine, right here in my house that I can get my dirtiest things clean in and the dryer stacked above it should the weather be uncooperative.
I felt rich in my chickens when I cleaned out their roosting place, their nesting place, this fine little coop that my husband built with his own two hands with wood that he reclaimed from here and there. I even felt rich in the chicken poop which will eventually go onto my garden to make things grow better.
I felt rich in my garden, even with the broiling sun above me, sweat running down my body, my face, as I knelt to weed, to pick. And rich in the fact that I am healthy enough, strong enough, to do that.
And honey, I sure felt rich when I came inside to the coolness to sit in front of the TV and watch ridiculous crap while I shelled the peas I'd picked, my feet up on the coffee table, my hand busy while my body relaxed.
I am so wealthy in the shelled zipper cream peas that I'm going to cook for our supper and the green beans that I also picked- they keep coming and coming and coming.
I'm rich in those mangoes in varying stages of ripeness and the watermelon in the refrigerator that my husband cut up into bite-sized pieces for us. I am rich in the pineapple I bought the other day that needs to be cut as well. I can smell it when I walk into the kitchen.
We should probably go on an all-fruit diet for a few days. Except...zipper cream peas. And those two avocados I have in the refrigerator, ready to eat. Now. And the green beans which keep producing and the okra that's coming on and the figs that are ripening.
And then there's the man who worked all day on finishing up the fence which gleams white again against the green of the trees and the plants. The man who holds me tight and thanks me for making supper every night, and who is always gentle because he knows he's strong enough to be so. The bond we have because of the love we've shared and made which has led to our children and our family and more love and more children. The richness of my family because we love.
All of this and so much more. I've talked about it so many times. The running water, the hot and cold running water, the absolute luxury of good soap and clean sheets and fresh eggs and baby kisses. The time and space and energy to grow some of our own food.
Extra toilet paper.
Pens and ink.
Paper upon which to write.
This magic box of a computer.
The technology of my phone which allows me to be in touch with people I love, some of them people I've never actually even met but whom I love, nonetheless. To have an entire universe of information right there at my fingertips.
Books. To read with my eyes and my ears.
Libraries from which to get them.
Which is a miracle.
Music and friends and the philosophy of six-year old boys.
All of it. All of it. All of it.
God. Suddenly I am exhausted in my wealth.
Talk to you tomorrow.