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April 155

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I don’t have adequate words for this week. We live near Boston. Mr K. and I grew up in and around this city.

On Tuesday I tried to write a post about the bombing at the Boston Marathon but only came up with an angry spew that served no one. Yesterday I made an attempt at something more reasoned and it seemed painfully inadequate. So today, as the police search for one of the bombing suspects, I’ll just say this: I am sad, and I am angry, and I am comforted by unhesitating actions residents have taken to help the wounded, shelter the displaced, and support their neighbors. I am comforted by the fact that people here are so very pissed off, in fact. 

My response has been to turn to what I know. I paid extra attention to my son’s t-ball practice. I started a quilt for the little ones recovering at Children’s Hospital. I took pictures of the small flowers beginning to bloom around the yard. As I looked around, I found a little wooden heart in the corner of my neighbor’s garden, tucked amid the emerging green shoots and some old leaves from last fall.