This past week I’ve been in mourning. We came back “home” to Providence and I was hit with the realization that I didn’t want to be here. I left my heart in Michigan, so to speak, and the transition back here has been difficult. The first night home was filled with the loudness of city life- neighbors yelling, cars revving, sirens blaring- and I didn’t sleep a wink, missing that country darkness and quiet. Slowly, slowly I am finding my feet again, readjusting to life here in Providence. Luckily, the kids are so happy-go-lucky that the transition hasn’t been hard on the at all- they loved our time in Michigan for all that it was, and they were happy to be back home to their pool and their friends. Oh to be a kid again- it was all so simple!
As always, my garden and farmers market bring me joy, especially now that they have reached their summer peak. The garden is bursting with 10-foot-tall sunflowers, in every variety imaginable. I planted some in my plot this year, and I absolutely love the pop of color among the greens and tomatoes. The boys come along to help, still wearing their wet bathing suits from the pool. We have to peel the suits off every night, managing only because we promise they can put them back on first thing in the morning. What are we going to do when the pool closes? There will surely be tears!
Last night, as we walked to the garden, sitting in front of the school (where my community garden is) there was a large group of men, sitting around drinking and smoking pot, the ground around them strewn with litter and broken bottles. This is my garden. This is the public school where our kids would attend if we stay here. I went into the garden, chaining the lock behind us, feeling worried as I turned my back to water and weed. This is Providence…and we’re back. At this moment, there is not much more to say.