Hello.

I’ve had a wild ride for the past few weeks, and I’m about to spend a week or so posting photos and blogging a two week plane train and automobile trip Sandy and I took to Montana, Washington, and Oregon. This trip was one of our best! We visited five national parks and monuments and spent several days on the Oregon Coast with my friends Pam, Jenny, and Jeanne, and met Jenny’s husband Glen.

I came back to the back forty reverting to nature, mosquitoes and humidity, my black hollyhock blooming, the butterbeans and field peas coming up, no sunflowers, a newly painted kitchen, and my keys to work and the church studio missing. It’s a tad overwhelming, but it is good to be home and I missed my feline babies.

The week has also brought me some grief about the state of Deep Roots Market, which has changed its mission and its business model to a community grocery store that carries regular grocery items as well as the organic, local, and sustainable products we have come to rely on their staff to select for us. After a tense conversation with the head of the Board of Directors, I’m not sure that I will be able to support this revised co-op to which I have devoted money, time, and love for many years. The good news is that three excellent people were just elected to the Board of Directors; three that remember and support the original mission of the co-op. I am genuinely sad about Deep Roots. I have lost another place that my heartstrings were attached to – that makes three places so hopefully it is finished. I loved the shiny new location, but now I pine for the crowded old metal building and trailer where I knew the staff and could count on them to care about the ethics of the products. Thank God that the Greensboro Farmers Curb Market continues to grow and improve. That will probably be my saving grace. It is just that I have gotten lazy on Saturday mornings.

Just before I left I took Sir Theo to the vet for his allergies, and I was dragged into the reality that he is in kidney failure in addition to a pronounced heart murmur. I’m still trying to get my head around that, although by now I should never be surprised at a diagnosis of renal disease in my cats. This is the fourth time in the past ten years. We’re becoming experts. However, he does not seem dehydrated or miserable so I am putting off subcu fluids for now.

My sister has adopted two adorable kittens and I may drive to Chapel Hill for an afternoon so that I can see them while they are still at this cutest age. My grand-nephew’s other grandmother is critically ill, and he is now her only relative since his father died in January. His life has been upended and tumbled so many times now and my heart aches for him. Please hold them in the light.

The back yard needs a machete or even a bushhog taken to it and mud needs to be scraped up off the “patio” and the path to the back building is slick with mildew and blocked by vines and branches. Pokeweed is growing on Lucy’s grave. The screen house screens were so ripped up that I tore them down and I’m not going to replace them again. Somebody please send me a gardener, preferably one who looks like Sam Elliott. However, the front yard and porch is a beautiful facade of shady comfort, providing lettuce and herbs for fresh salads so there’s that.