the other morning, i was eating some bake with cinnamon and sugar, and i was thinking about my grandparents, because my grandma used to always make donuts and serve them with cinnamon and sugar. i thought about easter at my grandparents', and the rice krispy bunnies we used to have every year with the little construction paper ears and feet added on, and the walks we'd all take down to the pond after eating. and i think i realized something.

maybe the reason i feel so deeply about the prairies is that every year for the first, what, 17 year of my life, we spent the most "special" days (ie. christmas and easter) heading out to the farm. the "holiness" i experienced each year on those days had more to do with the land, the rural drive, and my family than it ever had to do with church or Jesus.

(some know; some don't: i don't really self-identify as "christian" anymore. i still am deeply, desperately, and eternally in love with my creator, who i know best as "God." i still really dig Jesus, and believe he lived 2000 years ago, and was a social revolutionary, teacher, prophet, healer, etc. i don't know if he was divine, or if he knew he was divine. i think the bible is true; i think all the other cultural stories and in the world are true too, just maybe in different ways.)

anyway. a million more things are running through my head regarding both these issues (connection between land and "sacred" holidays; my state of post-christianity), but i don't feel like writing anything else right now. i just wanted to get it down somewhere.