Sad and sweet
By Megan Goodacre
Today, I am grateful for my family, the ground under my feet, and the roof over my head.
First, the sweet:
Since we last talked, the sun has shone and several robins have been spotted. Yesterday, a bright red cardinal perched atop the big tree in the front yard and shouted, "Tweet! Tweet tweet tweet tweet!" They really do say "tweet," like a cartoon.
For us knitters, this season is like reverse hibernation. In the colder months, we gather our resources and hunker down indoors. Sweaters, hats, scarves and gifts flow from the needles with factory-like speed. And then the weather turns, and the pressure to stay warm dissipates like haze in sunshine. We emerge, blinking, into the sun. Wooly knitting lingers in baskets as we turn our attention to other joys: Getting the bike out. Sitting on patios. Barbecue for dinner.
Today is a little chilly, but warming up. The sky is bright and blue.
Second, the sad:
The heartbreaking news from Nepal continues.
Survivors are sleeping in crudely constructed shelters. They need blankets, medical supplies, food and clean water.
An earthquake is a strange uniter: it reminds us that we are all standing on the same surface, together. It reminds us that any safety and security that we enjoy, at any given moment, are really a matter of pure chance.
Of course, the first question that we ask is, "how can I help?"
It never feels like enough, a personal donation, but I'm sure every dollar counts. This article from Public Radio International, has a list of vetted charitable organizations that are helping Nepal right now.
Today, I will be sending positive vibrations and a personal donation.
First, the sweet:
Since we last talked, the sun has shone and several robins have been spotted. Yesterday, a bright red cardinal perched atop the big tree in the front yard and shouted, "Tweet! Tweet tweet tweet tweet!" They really do say "tweet," like a cartoon.
For us knitters, this season is like reverse hibernation. In the colder months, we gather our resources and hunker down indoors. Sweaters, hats, scarves and gifts flow from the needles with factory-like speed. And then the weather turns, and the pressure to stay warm dissipates like haze in sunshine. We emerge, blinking, into the sun. Wooly knitting lingers in baskets as we turn our attention to other joys: Getting the bike out. Sitting on patios. Barbecue for dinner.
Today is a little chilly, but warming up. The sky is bright and blue.
Second, the sad:
The heartbreaking news from Nepal continues.
Survivors are sleeping in crudely constructed shelters. They need blankets, medical supplies, food and clean water.
An earthquake is a strange uniter: it reminds us that we are all standing on the same surface, together. It reminds us that any safety and security that we enjoy, at any given moment, are really a matter of pure chance.
Of course, the first question that we ask is, "how can I help?"
It never feels like enough, a personal donation, but I'm sure every dollar counts. This article from Public Radio International, has a list of vetted charitable organizations that are helping Nepal right now.
Today, I will be sending positive vibrations and a personal donation.