Some of those happy things. My tiny little seedlings of three different kinds of basil. My micro greens reaching for the sun. The wheat grass for the cats. My Cyclamen having a grand time putting forth its cheerful blooms.
Yesterday evening as the sun began to lower in the sky, Shasta and I went out and sat on the front deck, me with my wine, her just having finished her dinner. It was lovely – the perfect kind of light at that time of day, wonderful temperature, calm, quiet. Birds bathing in the fountain bird bath and pecking around the ground for their dinners. The jackrabbits enjoying their grasses for dinner. Quiet. Calm. Restful.
Later in the evening, sitting before my electric fireplace, watching the flames flicker – it’s almost as restful as the ocean sounds are for me. These pretend flames with the little sound box emitting sounds of fire crackling – priceless.
My newest weaving project, a special request from a friend.
My furry kids, my companions. Shasta, the dog, who is getting old now and spends most of her days sleeping, although she really tries to keep up with me when we go outside.
The cat, the Nong, who spent her day going out and in, out and in, out through the cat door to the catio, protesting the fact that she could go no further than the catio. Because. Because she thinks she’s entitled to chase after all those birds, and rabbits, and squirrels. She spent a good part of the day telling the world how mean I am.
And there is the Queso – the elusive Queso, who I can pet only when I put down his wet food. But do not attempt to pick up – he has claws that scratch when he launches his escape. Still, he is a pretty boy sleeping in his basket in the catio.
All of these things that bring me joy, peace, happiness. These are the things that make me realize I do have enough.