The sun rises slowly, as do I. When mornings are late, I'm late to awake. But I find contentment in warm (not hot) coffee and having a sleepy smile even as the rest of the household has already become bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Someday I'm going to have children, many I hope. And someday my late mornings will be interrupted with the giggles of breakfast and hectic school preparedness. So as for now I'll enjoy the annoyance I cause with my late dreaming- for it may be the last few years I have of it.
Bright Dark Hours
When the ground is officially covered in white, the night turns magical. The moon glows and everything illuminates. It's not like the autumn, when the moon's light is hidden in the shadows of the grass. In winter everything is white, flat, and curved. There are no places for shadows to hide. So everything is clear, easy to see, and almost day-like even in the middle of the darkest hours.
Mess of Emotions
What is love? Truly, what is it? Can you love someone and spend your nights sleeping beside them, dreaming of another? Can you carry someone in your heart and yet yearn someone else was in their place? Is that love? I feel as if most would answer no. And yet, as we all know, my wild heart claims the heart of one while unfortunately wanting another. I can't help it really. My admiration for something different is instilled in my gypsy soul. And it breaks me, causes me grief, and often leaves me in a confused mess of emotions.
A Village Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving in my home never leaves space for an empty stomach. My kitchen was filled and my table was too. And now I sit exhausted. Two days straight of labor in the kitchen and one large meal to finish it off. Now I'm tired. Admiring the thankful letters of a few generous neighbors. Remembering the kind exchanges of smiles from children and loved ones. My family is very far this holiday season- as they have been for the past three. I haven't spent a Yule or Thanksgiving with my parents since I was eighteen. And I often miss them. Often wish I could find a love here who would share his family with me in an intimate, true way. But for now the village is my family, a friendly family, and one that I take in with all my heart.
Day Before Thanksgiving
It's the day before perhaps the very biggest meal in the world. I prepare of course. For thanksgiving, to a white girl in a native village may be the very most significant day in the world. I share a feast like it was in the very first days of my people's immigration- with friendly souls who appreciate my residence on their homeland. So today I prepared my rolls. Picked the fruit from my pumpkin, mashed it, and made a pie worth eating immidiately. And set the table for a day that is one of the most sentimental and truly heartwarming of the year.
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