Monday, August 05, 2019
Daily Notes- August 5th
This looks like the gathering of garden things-minus the big tomato--that I bring in. A few things-not enough for anything but a snack of sorts. And I kept the picture from somewhere--because I liked the COLORS! My gathering includes orange cherry tomatoes and cucumbers and blueberries and small yellow squash. Someday soon a peach, I hope.
I finally got back to the morning pages. I had missed a few days because of early appointments. I am no longer used to getting up early. So it feels rushed when I get up and have somewhere to be. I usually have no where to be. I also weighed myself. Two days in a row. Same weight. Looks like I have, over all these weeks and months, lost 14 pounds. It doesn't seem like much when the amount I am over is so much. But a little at a time. I refuse to concede defeat.
My coffee is darker and stronger than usual. Riley is barking in little static eruptions. Like a nervous tick. The new normal. He asked for and was given his pills. I asked him to eat his breakfast. He walked away. I topped it with a diced pill pocket. He watched. I walked away. He ate his breakfast. We understand each other. He now waits while I type---- to go water the tomatoes. The next item on his list of things to do. A dog who has a to do list. Remarkable.
I feel cold. I woke up feeling cold. I woke up because I heard (or thought I heard) something large bump into the side of the house by my bedroom. Outside. I woke up. Went to look. Went to see where G was. The dog. I felt "disrupted". Uneasy. There was nothing. The sun is shining. But I am still chilled. Yesterday's news has put me on alert. For loud noises.
I wrote about my previous house in my Morning Pages. I woke this morning longing for that house. For the table by the patio doors. Where we sat as a family of four around that first table from Georgia. Playing cards, eating, talking. The room upstairs we used for the computer. A long table in front of windows overlooking the street. Where I typed the Leaflet. The newsletter for the Friends of the Morton Arboretun. I typed in columns. On the computer. In Germany I typed the newsletter on a typewriter. In columns. I see now that I was always meant to be working in journalism. Writing. Not always my own words but editing and typing the words of others. I see that now--looking back. I wish I had seen it earlier in college. How would Life have changed?
I read Grace's blog. She is missing her previous home in New Mexico. It's in the air.
Riley insists-- We are going to water the tomatoes.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
a perfect example.
Sue in Calgary's comment: "it's some aspect of the person i was in that
place that I really miss"
right?
Post a Comment