Just a Morning Write
I have to work on my den on this dull dull morning ... and I have to mail the first payment to Revenue Canada.
We have just come through a blustery night that sent Kenya from my bedroom to her crate where she feels most secure ... sort of like a bomb shelter, I think. For some reason she is far more insecure here when the weather is miserable than she was before we left. Maybe she is expecting this to become just another stopping place where all her senses have to be on guard all the time.
I am still dealing with being home in an alien place, so I understand.
It doesn't help that I seem to be operating with half my usual number of brain cells. Before Kenya and I headed out for a hike between rain showers I turned on the dishwasher. We came back in drenched and I discovered the puddle of soapy water in front of the dishwasher. I must have used dish detergent instead of the dish washer detergent ...
After I cleaned up the mess I attended to the fire (in the wood stove) and then checked my phone messages. The technician who was supposed to work on my dryer tomorrow suffered an injury and won't be out till next Tuesday. Great. We will likely have rain from now till then so outdoor line drying is not an option. Back to the rack in front of the fire.
I received a series of phone calls that made me cry because they were all from people who wanted to say I really wasn't quite as alone as I thought.
My tear ducts are opening rather more easily than they used to. It seems to be a problem when I feel under the gun ... but as one of the callers said ... "At our age surely we must have figured out that things always do work out, and it is better to concentrate on what you can control than to worry about what you have no power over anyway." Another advised me to stop worrying about worst case scenarios. The third offered to help me figure out part of the morass, and, if necessary, speak on my behalf.
So, through tears, I am lucky to have people who care. I am also lucky to be living in a beautiful place.
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