Well, that’s Mother’s Day behind me, already – “the year is nearly half over”, I think to myself, sipping my coffee and looking out the office window on a dreary gray morning. “At least it isn’t cold, too”, I add as an afterthought.
It was a lovely weekend spent in the good company of my Traveling Partner. I ended up letting most of the housekeeping and whatnot just fall by the wayside, to be handled another day. I kept the kitchen tidy, did a couple chores and errands that really couldn’t wait, and enjoyed time with my beloved. Time well-spent, no regrets – we don’t live for housework, we do the housework in order to live well. Sometimes there are better choices. 😀
I did manage to get into the garden a bit, which was lovely, and I planted a couple tomato plants to replace the ones the deer ate to ground a few days ago. A rose in my “memory garden” is blooming, and I found some cute beaded decorations to add there (I think my Dear Friend would have enjoyed the whimsy of these, and their colorful sparkle). More than any of that, as delightful as it was (and is), I am enjoying the recollection of time spent at my Traveling Partner’s side. Video games, 3D print projects, just hanging out, enjoying meals together, and getting some useful coaching from my beloved on the new solar hydro mini-garden (which will be planted very soon, so I needed to know how to mix the nutrients for that, and he has so much more experience); it was a delightful weekend.
I love seeing the roses begin to bloom. It’s a lovely time in the garden. The curry plant is covered in buds, too, and some of the lavender is as well. The strawberries have actual berries beginning to ripen, and still more blossoms. The romaine is thriving, and I had radishes enough to serve with a meal this weekend. I even boldly planted a couple of hardy smallish varieties of fig in large pots this weekend, hoping they do sufficiently well to be planted into the garden somewhere, in a year or two (they’re pretty wee, at this point, and likely to be inadvertantly mowed or stepped on). I love “edible landscape”, particularly in hard times. Such things give me a feeling of security and stability, and “good living”, and I definitely benefit from feeling that these days. I can’t do much (or, really, anything) about the crazy terrible bullshit going on in Washington DC, beside simply not succumb to terrible behavior, myself, and I find having “hope” available to see and feel in my day-to-day life makes enduring the bullshit going on elsewhere just a little less fraught with despair. It’s a small thing, this small garden, but the return on my time and effort is huge.
I sip my coffee grateful for my good fortune, and grateful for my good partnership, my pleasant home, my good job – I know things could be much worse (and that for many many people they very much are). I breathe, exhale, and relax. There are verbs involved, and I have to do my part, but there’s also a large measure of “luck”, “good fortune”, and circumstance that I get value from, and should not take for granted. Circumstances can change. So, I make a point of holding space for gratitude, and this morning’s gray and dreary backdrop to the day is a handy reminder that things could be worse. I sigh quietly to myself. I look fondly at the desk organizer and wee desktop waste recepticle my Traveling Partner made for me, and grin happily to myself. I feel very loved.
…Suddenly I am missing my beloved most ferociously, as if he were very far away, or it had been some long time since we last embraced. lol Strange to love to fiercely, and so enduringly. We are, afterall, just humans being human. My reflection smiles back at me in the window. I am fortunate to be so well-loved.
I’ve got a nice moment on which to begin a new day, right here, now. I look over my email, my task list, my day plan, and remind myself of phone calls I need to make, an appointment I’ve got later in the afternoon, and think briefly about what to do about dinner, although it is too soon to give it much thought. Another sigh. Another smile. Another moment. The clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.
Evening Light 