I hate blood test days like today. I can’t eat until after I go to the lab and it’s hard because I get up so early (4:30) and my appointment is not until 9:00 am. Sigh!
Even in the rain, wearing boots and in a coat that kept the rain off but was way too warm, I thoroughly enjoyed the community dog walk Sunday morning—part of it was knowing I’d be coming home for a spa and to light a fire. Plus, it was Sunday—my favourite day to laze about. And that’s all I did.
I frequently admired the emerging lawn. It’s a glorious colour—a light bright green that gleams with health and rich potential.
I particularly enjoyed having the fireplace going. It makes my home feel so cozy and all the animals love it too. There were isolated periods of brightness that infused me with pleasure and at four, there was a good rainfall but the sun was out. It was really beautiful; all the leaves were shining like prisms. God, I love this place.
I felt pretty fine here yesterday. Not having to water the gardens and the lawn every day means that I have time and energy for other things like making a peach tart. Yum! And today I’m making more good food because David is coming for drinks and dinner.
When I got Fred and Ethel, I was disappointed to realize that they were loving but aloof; being picked up—and worse, cuddled—is anathema to both of them. However, they both purr at the drop of a hat, even sometimes if I just talk to them, and I have never once been bitten or scratched.
I got them when Leon, my previous cat and the best pet/friend of my life, died. That’s why Fred and Ethel’s disdain for affection was such a letdown at first. But they won me over. They seduced me with cuteness and humour. They are mighty inquisitive cats; they cause lots of trouble but I love their strength and courage. And over time, they came to accept some affection as long as I didn’t pick them up.
One day recently (about two weeks ago) Fred jumped up on my bed when I was making it and I started petting him and he gave evidence of loving every second of all my attention and affection so we had a really lovely twenty minutes or so of lovely tactile interaction.
A few days later, it happened again and now it’s a daily occurrence. I have another best friend in the household.
I have friends who still have ambition; they want to achieve this or that. A former lover is actually campaigning to get an award he feels he deserves!
I had ambition too, but it died when Bill gave me his opinion of my play. It had been on life support for a long time and I welcomed his critique as a way to pull the plug. The pleasure of being released of ambition is still something I feel every day. I feel free and I love it.
Perhaps ambition as a positive framing of dissatisfaction with one’s present. If so, the death of ambition could be an acceptance of oneself—what one has and has done and how one feels about who one is. That’s how I feel: Content. Finally. All that matters now is that my plants and animals thrive—that my little half-acre world holds together.
Today all I’ll do is cook things for dinner. David, a friend from my Emily Carr days is coming to join me.
But for now… I keep sipping water and waiting for nine o’clock.