domesticated

I guess I am- enjoying the small things around home and yard. Even when (as is public knowledge by now) I'm no big fan of our current home-state. After so many years, there are some things tying me down, just a bit.

Cats, for one thing. Of course, we have moved with cats before (even moved our Spoenk from one continent to another), but this seems such a nice place for them to roam with no busy streets nearby.

And Mila, my Mila, who is no longer my Mila but did show up this morning, slipped in, and refused to leave. I had to put her outside this evening, and that broke my heart a little, she looked at me ...(and I interpreted) ...hurt, incredulous...

As I drove to work this morning, I was a bit angry, for the first time, at those nice people who welcomed her in their home. Which marked her a stranger in our home. The other cats were on high alert for 'intruder', and tails were puffed, hisses and growls were emitted.

And I had to deny 'my own cat' entry to the house. Sigh. But she made her choice. Although she seems oblivious, because after all, she is a  cat, although domesticated.

I am a little stubborn sometimes, and often foolishly so. Thus I resist books or TV series everyone is raving about, based on stubborn foolish principle, and as it turns out, when I do give in, it appears that I was wrong not to join in. One such book, which I now am going to recommend, is "All the light we cannot see" by Anthony Doerr. READ IT!

How's that for a disjointed blog post? Well, that's just how things are at the moment, in my head and of course in life, where best laid plans often remain just that, plans. Like my plans to tuck in early, which I have nearly every night and which never come to fruition. Ever.

I never

wanted to be that person...the one with the ailments and complaints about hurting and too heavy body parts and a pill regimen that requires serious management. I optimistically (and against my nature) thought that I could simply will myself to be - not this person. Haha. Thoughts like that resemble the teenage invincible recklessness.

Nor was I planning on becoming the workaholic I turned into this past week. My love was on the other side of the planet, that had something to do with it of course. Nobody and nothing (I'm salaried now) to set a time limit on the work day (although with the modern technology at my fingertips I can work at home and yes that happened too).

Nothing like signs of spring to make me poke my head out the door and above ground and take a pause- to spend some time in the moment. Listening to the chirping and hawking and chuck-chucking outside. Take a breath, feel the still chilly breeze with a tiny promise of open windows and billowing curtains.

Even Homer was willing to check out the situation- although looking slightly annoyed in the picture (he's the ginger on the left, his ears indicate his mood). I'm trying not to complain. But my back (right side to be specific) hurts like the dickens most of the time, making the non-complaining increasingly difficult. I could go to the doctor of course, but I'm not ready for what I may be told, so I don't, for now. More sticking my head in the sand- and a great learning moment to reflect on: if I am having this much difficulty acknowledging my disease, which is not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things- then I should imagine how much courage it takes the families I am working with to face the facts. And I never want to be the person to dismiss that.

reason

number umpteen-and-a-half why I may fit in the Pacific Northwest : I enjoy a good moody day.

Last week's snow vaporized in warmer temperatures with even more encouragement from rain and drizzle. I'll say that I enjoyed it mostly from the relative safety of the car (there and back home again from work) and took the pictures from the doorway, but still.

Plus I can't decide between ocean and mountains, contemplating this over a good strong cup of dark roasted bold coffee....(there really is nothing to contemplate because there is no move imminent- but one can dream/contemplate).

And, it sort of fits my mood, at least for the past couple days, while I process some less positive news in between messages of celebrations. Life- I should not have been so optimistic as to allow the thought that this year appeared to be the year for good news all around.

And I love pine trees, all types, so there is that. Totally useless contemplations, I am aware (wait, that is NOT the plural of contemplation? ). Enough of this procrastination tactic- I need to move, as in exercise. All the sitting around (okay that sounds like we're lollygagging at work, which is definitely not the case) is starting to not feel so good.