Sometimes I drive past this house with a sign that says, “Green witch.” Someday I want to be the green witch and live in a little house and grow pretty plants and read stacks of books. I want to be Thoreau in female form.
That green jug was a whopping 50 cents at an estate sale two weeks ago. Boom.
But since that day is not today, I brought a little springtime inside the house to tide me over for now—just a few plants in the kitchen with some white, wood, and wicker. It’s pretty simple, but it feels like growth and reminds me of the transcendentalists, some of my favorite people.
I have a list of people I’d like to lunch with in the afterlife, and Henry David Thoreau is on the short list.
Happy Friday, friends. •