Hands
Earned their keep
These hands of mine
When I describe to people why I love my fat bike, I say things like “It makes me feel like a tank, buzzing slowly, but impressively, along.”
Thursday and Friday, I did my first bike-train commutes of 2015. It was rough start, because, for one thing, I lost my Metro Go Card.
“Mostly we nurture our own blessings or spoil them, build firmly or undermine our walls. Who are termites but our obsessions gnawing.” — Marge Piercy, Nailing Up the Mezuzah By the time you read this, I’ll have been at a writer’s workshop on Madeline Island for two days, with three more to go. I wonder…
Aren’t they cute?! I can’t wait to start collecting their rich little poopings! If you look at the worms under a microscope, they look like this: I think it takes six months before you actually get anything “out” of them but I figure with all the coffee grounds they’ll be chugging, they will be more…
I fell on the ice. I was trying to carry a 50 lb bag of feed from the garage to the barn in the dark because I needed to get the feed out of the back of my car so I can put Java in there tomorrow when some woman and her kids come to…
I’m sure this feeling of being stuck and making little progress on my creative endeavors while everyone else is growing and spreading their wings in awesome splendor and while they flap, flap covering me in dust and totally messing up my hair as they motor on by I’m sure this is just my mind exaggerating…
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Fantastic! These hands have earned their keep? I love that! And your photographs are stunning – as are your hands! I often think that way about my body in general – you know, that it’s earned its keep – but specifically hands? What a lovely meditation. I loved, loved, loved this and will look at my age spotted, somewhat scarred, crepe paper textured skin hands more lovingly and appreciatively after reading this.
Your hands, poem, and photos, are beautiful. (but I do know the feeling of looking at my own hands and thinking “who’s are these?”)
Lynn