I have bought a “Little Free Library” for my front yard. (LittleFreeLibrary.org) I will officially be the “steward,” but Reiley, my across-the-street neighbor, has taken to calling me Marian.

 On Sunday, Reiley will use his posthole digger  to try to find a spot to install  it where there is not a giant, impeding, liquidambar root. Here called sweet gum.

Sweet gums were planted by the city as street trees many years ago.  Their roots buckle sidewalks and driveways.  Mine caused a water leak this year ($3000). They drop lots of leaves in the fall.

And these interesting pods in the spring.

Nevermind. My trees are sacred.

Saginaw Street has lots of foot traffic.  Also strollers, skateboards, and bicycles. I hope lots of people will “take a book and leave a book” which is the use guideline.

I will stock it initially with a few books from my cache.

I pulled out my copy out Anne Tyler’s A Spool of Blue Thread to add to the stack.  I needed to remove my little stickies from pages where I’d underlined things.  All my books are filled with underlinings, N.B.’s, and marginalia.

Here are a couple of quotes from Blue Thread:

“A person should be willing to take his chances, answering the phone.  That’s kind of the general idea with phones is my opinion.”  I absolutely disagree with this.

“You wake up in the morning, you’re feeling fine but all at once you think,  ‘Something’s not right.  Something’s off somewhere; what is it?’ and then you remember that it’s your child.  — whichever one is unhappy.  You’re only ever as happy as your least happy child.” This is true, but I’m working on it.

Very early this beautiful Sunday morning, I went out to enjoy squishing with my bare fingers the aphids on my almost-ready-to-bloom roses. All of a sudden, an old country church song came to mind.

I can remember every single word. ” I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses.”

Of course, I can’t remember the words to the anthem my choir will be singing in a couple of hours! Better, I think, to remember the words from my childhood when my faith was childlike. “And he walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own.” I miss that childlike faith.  And I keep singing.