Two for two, chickens.
Don’t expect this to stick. I have a toddler who insists that we spend my only free half hour a day together holding hands and watching the “Choo Choo” and even though I wish I could fire bomb Thomas and his Tank Engine, I’m obsessed with the aforementioned toddler.
This one’s short. So last week I was rereading this article that is very poignant and important and about how crucial it is to have a tribe of people to get you through all the messiness that is life, and I got all choked up and sent it to my very own tribe because I hate being the only one crying, and I decided that everyone should read it (everyone being the 22 people who read my blog, but that’s a wide enough net for this chick):
It doesn’t really have anything to do with Donald Trump, so if you’re as sick of him as I am, you can still click and be safe.
My favorite lines, I think, are these ones:
Each week when I ask “What can I bring?” or read “My house tomorrow, 5:45pm,” I know soon I’ll be at a table with friends who are just friends because we are friends. If that makes sense to you, you are a fucking blessed human.
People, I never tell you what to do, but I’m telling you this: Get yourself a crew. Find them. Show up. Cook some food. A lot. Pick up where you fucking left off.
I think it’s right, chickadees. I think it’s exactly what we all need. If you have a tribe, get at them. If you don’t, make one up, it’s winter and you’re not doing anything else, anyway.
Man, I love when people have the right idea.
Enjoy the sunshine, chickens.