The Tuesday Three
These days I come into Tuesday with force. Mondays, I try hard to hit the ground running, and get loads of work done. I just began to take a yoga class early evening Mondays, and it’s a new yoga effort for me, a flow class. I am giddy in love with it. That’s the truth. So after all that pushing, I float home.
I’ve got many things scheduled this week and a three-day weekend looms (less than ideal working conditions but more than eager to work).
If I were more disciplined about the growth of this blog, one thing I’d do is make more regular features, like What Do Feminist Preschoolers Wear? (That’s my only one). I like, on other blogs, columns like Loving or High Five or lately… or those weekly wrap-ups with a list of cool things spotted. I do have a Tumblr now, and I guess it serves that function (but I’ve yet to get serious about promoting it—ah, here I am: I have a very cool, little Tumblr).
Since I don’t yet know what to call it, and although I can’t say I’ll do this every Tuesday, consider this little list ahead a test run of a Tuesday-leaning feature. Given my love for the practice of noticing three good things, I’ll give you three here.
- I found the Modern Love essay this past Sunday very touching. It’s about having married—and then divorced—a Jamaican man, and a white woman’s musings about how the experience perhaps changed her, if not her color.
- One of my favorite people on Twitter is Lisa Adams and through her, I recent began to follow @HonestToddler on Twitter. Here’s one: “Hope you didn’t think we came here for you to sit on a bench. Push me on the swing forever.” I am giving serious thought to adding my own additional Twitter handle: @SullenTeenager.
- The consistent high point of many Tuesdays for me is my little town’s Tuesday Market. Even the photographs and teasers to lure me there make me happy. We belong to the farm mangers’ farm, Town Farm. The picture of Ben’s alien vortex inhibitor (or some such) is just below; you can read more about what it might be here. Ben’s a marvelous writer—and his aesthetic pleasure at the farm’s—and the market’s—life, both wordily and community-ily and photographically make it that much more pleasant for the rest of us. Lest you think otherwise, Oona brings all this to these endeavors, too. Silas and Wiley and now the puppy Blue contribute, too.
Oh, and we got chickens! Well, Mim and Ira, our very wonderful housemates did, eight year-old ladies who lay (and then, no longer lay and end up in their freezer, but that’s not till way later). They are to be named after fabulous feminists. I am pretty sure Eleanor is one and Wangari another. I am not an animal-adoring person so the chance to have chickens around, and to photograph without exactly having chickens; this is kind of my dream chicken gig. On their first morning here, I listened to the cluck-cluck and felt entirely happy. My grandparents had a farm in Franklin, Tennessee and we have a farm-let on Franklin Street.