it was a cherry tree.

we planted a tree today, dadoo and i. while digging into the ground, he stuck his hand into the rototiller to get a rock out. he had just turned off the machine, but some tension had built up around the rock and scraped off a large chunk of dad's right ring finger. as he found and applied the bandaid he keeps in his wallet for just such an occasion, i told him about a former neighbor who lopped off the best parts of two of his favorite fingers. i'm hoping i'll be there next time when dadoo sticks a hammer, stick, or other inanimate object into the rototiller, rather than his hand, even though the man has health insurance for which i would (have to) give my left leg.

we watered the sapling until puddles formed in the mud and, as the sun set, came inside.
as i went to wash my hands, the smell of fishing followed me back in. the mix of my sheepskin slippers, the dirt, the manure, the cedar, the sapling, the grass and the wet made me want to stop everything except my breath. i could almost feel and hear the cup of earthworms. so lovely.

now, we wait for the c.ts to arrive.
i will sew until then.