My fairy garden made it through most of winter standing, but I found it today in ruins. If I’d sat outside a few days ago, the ruined garden town might have felt like a heavy-handed metaphor. Today, it’s just a thing.
The destruction is likely the handiwork of my six-year-old and the neighbor boy, which makes me think that should be a thing. The littles should be able to rearrange the pieces in the dirt whenever they want, so this year’s fairy garden will be bigger and have room for them to construct and demolish. Shiny things, painted things, little bridges. I’ll plant Impatiens again and let them play.
Someone I knew died yesterday. No one close but a coworker and fellow member of Sad Tribe. She was fighting breast cancer and addiction concurrently. Today is for counting blessings and carrying on. Love love.
Coffee or Suicide 