What are those little red berry things called?

The economy of ohh sure last minute odd jobs. Transporting real estate staging furniture. I’m happy to work for my in-laws. Humbled, honored and hoorah.


One thing I just hmmmed: What’s the difference between house and home? It’s the difference between sinking in and not. I’ve been thinking about this lately.


Aside: My knee is still popping in and out. I’m working around it and doing single leg lunges and massage and knee circles and sitting down and lifting the flexed leg up. Building up what broke down. Sometimes we focus on stuff so intently, other stuff breaks down. Unbeknownst to us til it’s broken.


It’s difficult to explain a mini epiphany. What circumstances conceived it, and why it matters as a break thru moment. But yesterday I was doing something with the baby. Maybe changing diaper or maybe playing with this toy car on the floor. I thought: you’ve got to love your life. Pour fucking love into ever nook and cranny. The diapers. The low employment. The knee. The good runs. The loud air conditioning unit in the bedroom. The makeshift drapes, bedsheets lol. The epiphany is that love is this word that’s kind of beyond the preference realm. It’s difficult to explain, the way all quiet baby inspired realizations are. I think partly it’s a trust in the universe. Partly it’s trusting that things will come, which means they’re already here. Even in marital arguments, shifting the focus from I’m right she’s out of her damn mind, for example, to pour love pour love pour love. Feels so much...lighter. Easier. More in flow state. Glide, you know?