Mine is a Quiet World

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted – inspiration has been lacking and there hasn’t seemed to be much to say, in addition to which I haven’t been settling long in one thought process. The attention span has been short. These are not bad things. I have been enjoying the feel and the sights of a new spring, enjoying watching winter fade away, practicing patience with its protests and reluctance to depart. I have spent little time with my camera – that’s that lack of inspiration thing. I need to get back to seeing things with a more creative eye, to recognizing opportunities for photos in odd places.

Life goes on. Things change. Some changes are better than others. Gep is settling in in his new home, however long it may be his home, in Ecuador. He is loving the temperate climate, the culture, the opportunity to begin a new phase in his life. He is with me briefly, a quick trip to the U.S. because his shipment of possessions from Oman have arrived and he needs to gather some items to take back to Ecuador with him. Kat is preparing for her move at the end of this school year to Thailand, preparations that are complicated by her little furry roommates, the cats that come in shades of orange and white, that will accompany her in this new phase in her life.

On the home front, spring yard cleanup continues, slowly by slowly. The daffodils are blooming, the bushes and trees are budding out, the ground is warming. The urge to plant is nagging at me, although I know it is too early, that we will have many more nights of frosts. The muscles I needed to help me move my computer desk and filing cabinet to their new homes in this used-to-be-a-living-room but is now a craft-computer-anything-goes room, became available and I am most happy with the results. The process has begun to offer the old Canon Rebel for sale, since it has become obvious, even to me, that I just am not interested in taking the time to learn the secrets of that camera that is heavier than I care to lug around with me.

I watch my furry girls; the little girl who is eating less and less, showing the signs of her lymphoma, but still cuddling and purring.

The old bigger girl, whose crippling arthritic joints are making movements more and more difficult, although every once in awhile she shows a few spry signs. She is still my love, even though she is a bit stand-offish. We often discuss the hell getting old can be.

Then there is my young girl, although in dog years she may well be approaching middle age. The girl who thrives on attention, who never gets enough petting, who cuddles with me in bed at night, who alerts all of us to impending danger – although sometimes the danger exists only in her imagination. The girl who does not believe sleeping on the floor is an option. When I suggest such a thing, her look clearly says “get real, will you!”

I am turning a deaf ear more often to the broadcast news, being picky about those email headlines I choose to click on, enjoying time with Gep, setting no goals for completion of any projects until after he has flown away again. There is nothing that cannot wait. There is nothing more important than time with my loved ones when they are here. Listening to the news will change nothing – the election will be what it will be. When sanity returns to this country, I will tune in again.

In the meantime, in this life that contains enough, in this quiet world, I am grateful.