My sister and I recently did a sister trip where we went to Yosemite National Park.
There was a point in my life when I would have considered this a death sentence. I will let you know, I am well past that point. This trip was a great trip.
My sister is an amazing person and I’m really grateful to have her in my life. She’s my constant encouragement to be a better person, ally, and feminist. She’s one of the most open hearted persons I know.
We heard this guy speak not just once, but twice. It was great. He’s the park ranger you think of when you think of park ranger awesomeness. I was really excited that we were able to hear him talk.
Sure we walked 8 miles in the wrong direction this day. But we did find where one of John Muir’s homes were.
This amazing woman who took this picture kindly told me I had my camera set to manual focus. The pictures became much easier to take after this. And she took a great photo of my sister and I.
Snowshoeing is not easy.
We almost did a backpacking trip. That would have required 20 miles of snowshoeing. I’m glad we didn’t do that trip.
The trip was really great though. I could go back again and again.
Each leaf on my tree is a survivor of domestic violence or sexual assault. It’s a beautiful representation of the difficulty of being a part of a community no one wants to be a part of.
No one wants violence to happen. No one wants violence to happen to people we love. No one wants violence to happen to them. That doesn’t stop it from happening. There is no magical rule or protection we can give people to not face violence.
I carry my leaves to remember that there is a community of women that are standing up and saying that what happened to them is not okay. The voice might shake, it might be small, but there is a community out there. That community stands with survivors and is working hard to create larger systemic, cultural, and legal changes.
I’ll be adding more leaves this spring. I’ll be carrying more people with me. I’ll keep seeing leaves out of the corner of my eyes and think of people. People who are beautiful. People who are complicated. People who are strong. People are kind. People who are not alone.
Handsome and I recently bought a new house.
- learning where the floor boards creek
- finding the shortest route to the bathroom during movie pauses
- knowing what temperature the new stove will make the best cookies
- our dogs finding the best sunny spot for sleeping
- waving to new neighbors
- finding her name
We’ve been packing up our house for months now. Trying to stage it to sell.
It’s been emptying slowly. Slowing becoming less of us so others can see themselves in our house.
We’ve taken down:
- the pizza peel we use to make fresh loaves of bread
- the handmade cutting board my father made to celebrate our first house
- the pots we use to can in massive amounts
- my grandmothers picture in my craft room like the patron saint of crooked lines and embracing imperfections
- my vagina warrior lunch bag that reminds me to keep fighting and keep loving
- handsome’s medals from races
- the tag that hung outside our tent in Canada
It’s amazing how we take spaces and make them into spaces where there can be comfort and love.