Labor Day

One of the most seasoned laborer I know is sleeping on the job, exactly the place for him, on the morning once designated for folks who 'do the work.' 

It's a gray-skied, drizzly morning a welcome change to the dry and parched summer. Yet the change in seasons brings with it the transitional responses of some bodies, like mine, that mount a response of protection to the damp and mold that forms quickly to the natural shift. 

Our tiny home is cozy, dry and filled with the comforts of a warm place to rest, and sleep: a cotton futon bought more than a dozen years ago from Soaring Heart in Seattle the firm simple sleeping pad compacts with our weight and is more kin to sand or dirt than to cushy form-to-your-shape bedding like Purple. How did I ever learn about such technology as Purple? The short version of the answer is I signed us up for Hulu (streaming entertainment) and brought us into the twenty-first century; brought present day tv into our cozy, dozy comfort station; where there are advertisements. I don't 'do' ads, don't visit sites that run then usually.

But that diverts the flow, yet the Soaring Heart futon we do sleep, sit and live on encountering an ad for Purple is all about the folks who 'do the work.' People do make our Soaring Heart futon, and people do make those new technology Purple mattresses. 

The old laborer, dear lover and maker of our structures, shelters, the guy who collects nuts, bolts, steel salvage and $5 hand tools nobody wants nor knows how to use is deep in restful sleep on the firm cotton futon resting up for a day of daily labor that is his form of work and play. The two work and play go together like a mineral-rich overnight tea (infusion) made from Stinging Nettle Leaves and hot water. 

Pete's years of experiences (mineral-rich laboring) steep in boiling water (all those jobs!) and at this stage of his life, he makes those infusions from body memory and incorporates the work of putting them together every night. 

We, Pete and I, lucked out when fate tripped me up on my way out of a corporate infused life that was ill-fitting my soul but feathered my family nest with money. When the 'trip' came my family was un-ended, there was a great huli (turning out from my canoe). I needed to learn to do my work differently. Lucky me, lucky us we found each other and our labors began to fit together a new sort of life.

And today? On this Labor Day we get a technological miracle -- text and photos -- of what comes from a different, yet most important -- kind of labor. 


Lucky us, the Two Tutus. Carter pulls on the Lucky Ribbons we made with a hand-me-found coil of copper wire gifted to Pete from a grand old woman, and lengths of colored ribbon measured, cut and bought at our local craft store to catch protection, the wind ... and legacy!! Now that is an infusion.

💪💕

Related:

Two very different and related links from a dear friend I've met because of the internet and a famous trailblazer who knows something about legacy ... laborers 

New Moon Week Horoscope from Satori 

Linda Ronstadt "The Sound of My Voice" 

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