Just when we are all gearing up mentally for summer, the last few days have been more like February. Damp and raw.
It does make for good reading, writing, and napping weather. I always have a nap coach ready to help.
The writing wobbles along. I'm at the place - in two separate stories -where I am chasing scenes, catching them after a lot of fuss, and then wondering why. Lotta chaff in the air lately.
I was shopping online the other day and kept saying WTF or GTFOH out loud. When I gave up and went to the store I was still turning over price tags and muttering it for the sake of anyone within earshot.
Judging by muted laughter, I wasn't alone in my sticker shock.
I brought home a lot of nearly dead plants, a whole summer wardrobe, and lost my last cane.
Oh, that. Friday last was supremely stressful. I have a better understanding of a personal rubicon.
Midweek I made the decision to take Sweetie for a last trip to the vet. The home visit euthanists wanted nearly a mortgage payment for their kindnesses. So, it was set for Friday at 2.
My appointment for my back called for leaving the house at 8:30am with a driver. Colin came to the car with Sweetie bundled up in a lovey for her last ride, thinking I was a horrible person for being annoyed at his footdragging. Overwhelmed by his sorrow, he got the appointment times mixed up. He has such a tender heart. Confusion, tears, apologies. and my solemn vow that we would cancel the vet appointment if I could just get through mine. I doubled down on the valium and a bunch of needles later, and I could stand up straight without pain in my legs. For how long? I don't care. Now is just fine.
A word about suffering. We aren't seeing any signs of pain, and certainly no fear. Sadness is our construct, not hers. After not taking any water or food for four days, Saturday night she set about making up for lost time. She wants to be outdoors as much as the weather will permit, but I don't let her stay outside alone. We sit together and watch the garden grow. Her friends sit too. Each day, still a gift.
Now it's reduced to a decomposing mountain of woodchips and hopefully will be supporting a variety of perennials.
I've always been a chaos gardener. It was so much easier in the black soil of the Hudson Valley. Here, it's hit or miss.
A string of pumpkin plants is already flowering from the guts of last year's Jack O lantern. I planted those 50-cent nearly deads out there randomly. Some tomatoes, peppers, squash, and watermelons no one wanted mixed in with the zinnia, cosmos, and a bunch of other things that I'd already forgotten.
We wait together to see what the garden will give us. Flowers, food, and eventually, a place to rest.
Cool whip, fresh strawberries mashed with a few tablespoons of Chambord over a couple slices of Sarah Lee pound cake.
my heart is with you,Colin and Sweetie in these days
Deb~ Blessings to you and Sweetie as you enjoy these days together...you garden dreaming, Sweetie, just being Sweetie, I suppose.
I am sorry for your body & heart pain. Painful times are hard. Sorry for the cane loss too. We are waiting for the VA to send one in the mail (I don't know why that seems odd to me, but it does). And deep gratitude to your Colin for his good heart and for being there for the both of you.
The pic of you, would be a great book cover Cy
Chaos gardener! Love that. I've been calling myself an un-gardener.
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