For the mind can build itself a home, but only the heart can live in it– Mark Nepo, from his poem, Art Lesson
It has been a very busy day so I’m afraid I’ll be brief — the family has descended from far and near ( well, Juneau, and Young and Small Tracts roads)– and it’s been a nutty day. Baking, wrapping, gingerbread houses, and mostly — Love. A lot of love.
Henry, ( 3) has a thing about sharp objects of destruction- swords, knives, axes. Of course his are made of wood or foam and harmless, but today he got to carry a real saw and help cut down a real Christmas tree, and even though it was really, really cold ( the vans on the barge with the Christmas groceries are frozen shut with sea ice. I hear they are trying to thaw them with propane torches…) As we walked the trail to help Henry cut his tree for the little house where the kids are staying, my daughter said that this is what her Missouri-born husband thought he was getting into when he married an Alaska girl, and I said I was really happy, so happy I almost wasn’t cold– We used to cut trees with the kids when they were little, but everyone has given this up except Chip and I, in favor of artificial trees that are a lot easier, more symmetrical, and last longer. But I love a real a tree, and now, so does Henry, and what’s not to love about that?
