Waiting for the Shower

A Favorite Pasttime

Nest

It brings me such joy to have so many of my favorite people in the nest for Thanksgiving. 

Odd Produce, Three

Compared to some of the other offerings, dragonfruit seems almost pedestrian.

Odd Produce, Two

That is... quite the purplish veiny yam. 

Odd Produce, One

How does one even eat that? Does it need to be peeled? Oh, dear. 

Helper

New Old Dog is a big help as Beloved Husband tightens the screws under the table. 

So Many Questions

What is this, and why is it in the garage fridge? And how long has it been there? 

Cutest Angriest

Tiny Dog had to have her thyroid levels checked to be sure her medicine dosage is good.  All of the vet techs love Tiny Dog, even though Tiny Dog alternately purposefully and studiously avoids looking at them, and then grimaces, barks and tries to bite them. "I have the cutest angriest chihuahua in the world!" exclaimed the vet tech who escorted Tiny Dog to the back room for her bloodwork. There is something very endearing about five pounds of furry rage and terror. 

All was well, and Tiny Dog does not need to go back until next year. Good Girl, Tiny Dog. 

Cheap Trick

Listening to classic rock recently, I came across this gem from Days of Yore: I Want You To Want Me (Cheap Trick). It reminds me of all those times I looked across the room at Beloved Husband and wondered whether he might ever be interested in me. A girl could dream.

I hope you enjoy.

Blue Man Group

Blue Man Group was in town, and they were excellent.

Not Heavy, Just Awkward

Herself speaks.

As I mentioned before, Cherished Friend may be relocating soon. This weekend, I worked with him to consolidate his possessions in his storage unit, as a preface to his moving Elsewhere. The effort went well, especially given the still-present uncertainty as to the timing or location of Elsewhere. We packed boxes and bags and sundries (none heavy, just occasionally awkward to carry). We drove across this desert land from there to here, and we rearranged the things in the storage unit, and all went surprisingly smoothly. Packing and moving are always hard, and perhaps even more so for an independent and reserved person like Cherished Friend. He nonetheless handled everything with good humor and with patience for the process.

I know that I generally don't like having people in my personal space, especially touching or rearranging my possessions. (There are Reasons.) I don't know whether Cherished Friend has a similar visceral dislike of such things, but since I was well aware of what would be my own discomfort in a similar situation, I did my best to be simultaneously as helpful and as unobtrusive as possible. He was gracious about my presence and efforts to help. He is on his way back to his current corner of the desert now, having left a handful of things in my house for temporary safekeeping. (It brings a kernel of joy to my heart to have them here.) We shall see what the next steps will be.

As hard as it is to continue to help prepare him to move Elsewhere -- which in his ideal plan will be far from this corner of the desert where I live -- it was nevertheless an enjoyable weekend. It was a privilege to have a glimpse into the World of his work and his residence. It was a pleasure to listen to him chat with Beloved Husband, even when the conversation turned to politics or economics or other topics to which I can contribute little. His presence is always enjoyable, and both reassuring and comforting. And I always feel Heard when we talk.

Lucky am I, to know my Cherished Friend.

Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.

When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

-- Kahlil Gibran, On Friendship, The Prophet

Picture copyright 2019, Mediocria Firma.

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

Brains

As the seasons march through autumn and into winter, the bit of grass in the back yard becomes dormant until springtime. This year, it's taken on an unusual pattern: it looks like a brain. Brain coral? Actual brain? Fascinating. Not sure why it is, but it is remarkable to say the least.

The small dogs are not impressed, though. 

Guardians

Desert

This past weekend, we went for a hike in the desert. Hiking is always restorative: it is soothing to walk in nature, with a backpack with any necessities on board, not needing to think about anything other than the pace of the trek.

Even though I cannot keep a houseplant alive, I am nevertheless enamored of plants, in all sizes, shapes, and phases of being. The desert has an abundance of fascinating specimens.

Tall:

Wide:

Finished:

Just begun:

The desert has a unique beauty, and so much of it is due to the flora.

Lovely.

Horizon

Herself speaks.

There may be change on the horizon.

There is a possibility that Cherished Friend may be relocating soon. The exact location is not yet clear -- it may be Far Away, or Very Far Away. Or even Someplace Else entirely. We don't know where or when, and we don't know the level of danger of some of the possibilities. All is in limbo, and limbo is a tricky place to be. It is hard to be patient, even when patience is the only option.

I know I would like very much if Cherished Friend lived near me; however, I know that particular sentiment belongs to me and speaks to what I want. It has nothing to do with what he himself wants. He needs to do what is right for him and to find where his own path leads, even if it leads far away from this desert land. 

In my middle age, I have uncovered and acknowledged a Truth that cannot be denied: we cannot impose what we want, or what we think ought to be, on anyone else's life. Not on spouses, not on children, not on parents or siblings, not on friends. The people we love must do what they must do. And if we truly love them, what we should want most for them is simple:

We want for them to be as safe as possible. To find their purpose, in work and in life. To have contentment. And ideally, for them to be happy.  

It is up to us to help them find their way, to provide safe shelter when they need a respite, and to reassure them that they are loved, always, no matter what horizon they see. 

Halloween

I'm a bit late posting the Halloween decor -- we were a bit sidetracked by Offspring the First's marriage. Offspring the Second was in charge of the Halloween decorations, and he did an excellent job.

We had a cemetery.

Spiders galore.

And grisly scarecrow holding the candy.

Well done, Offspring the Second. I do enjoy Halloween decorations, and he made everything Just Right.

Goal

Someday I hope to be able to read this. 

Potential Hobbies

Rojo

Herself speaks.

I have followed Rojo the llama on Facebook for some time now. I have always liked llamas, and Rojo has always been a thoroughly wonderful specimen. I would like to meet him in person. Because Llama. And because Rojo.

Alas, this will never come to pass: today his keepers posted the very sad news that Rojo's health is declining rapidly, and tomorrow, he will go to meet his Maker.

Why is this almost unbearably sad? I don't know this llama personally.

Perhaps it is the loss to the world of such a droll, friendly, happy animal. One furry silly-toothed llama has helped us not to think about the frustrations and sorrows of ordinary life. And one cheerful llama can provide a momentary reprieve when the world seems to be a Raging Dumpster Fire. We are grateful, Rojo, for your time among us.

Is there a Llama Valhalla? I hope so.

Godspeed, Rojo.

Photo found on Facebook, here: 

https://www.facebook.com/RojoTheLlama/photos/a.100865651674/10157434294406675/?type=3&theater

Pie Season Approacheth

Getting a Ride

When it is very chilly, Tiny Dog asks for a ride inside my jacket instead of walking all the way home herself. 

Fly Away

Herself speaks.

Yesterday evening at the gathering following Offspring the First's courthouse marriage to her beloved, every single person whom I met, when they learned that I am Offspring the First's mother, exclaimed what a lovely person she is: her friends, her coworkers, her new in-laws, each of them in turn extolling her virtues, speaking about her with such kindness on their faces and such warmth in their voices. Such joy.

One of her friends showed me some photographs from earlier in the evening, when Offspring the First was getting ready: in her hotel room, Offspring the First in her bathrobe drying her hair, the dress hanging ready for her.  Such ordinary-extraordinary pictures. And my heart cracked a little bit. She is so radiant, so beautiful, so full of life and happiness. So loved.

Offspring the First's world is moving away from mine, faster and faster. I am but a tiny part of her life now, and my role is ever smaller. Though I know this is how it should be -- our ultimate goal as mothers is to make ourselves unnecessary as we launch our offspring into the world -- it still pains me. So bittersweet. I hope that she is always surrounded by such grace and love.

Fly, my beautiful child. I wish for you all good things, always.

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