With people at home more, the neighborhood has seen a near-continuous progression of home improvement projects. My nerves feel rather frayed by the noise, and I long for the the more soothing sounds of birds and wind and distant highway traffic. But it occurred to me that having such an expectation is a certain kind of privilege: when we lived downtown in a major city, the din of emergency vehicles and garbage trucks and jackhammers was unceasing.
(because compost happens)
Books I’m Currently Reading
The Daily Compost 