All was lovely this holiday.
And I was exhausted from it.
I found myself feeling sad and weepy with no particular cause.
Started full on crying while hiking and talking of wood stove repair???
Checked my phone app to see if it was my moon time, but no.
I’m crying like I child who’s stayed up too late for the 6th night in a row.
Yesterday I woke up and was blessed with the most beautiful day.
I am so grateful.
The schedule allowed it, so I decided to work from home.
I went on a little walk with the dog, Sunshine, around the park and over to mom’s house where….
…I stole some whipping cream from her fridge so I could have a much appreciated cup of coffee.
Started the laundry and working on newsletter for work.
I boiled down the turkey leftovers, picked them apart. I usually HATE this, but made it easier on myself by not sifting through every morsel. All the stuff where there were potentially lots of little bones I put into a separate pot to make a mash for Sunshine (after 3 days of cooking the bones will be soft and safe for her to eat:)
Dishes returned to and from mom’s house
I cut veggies for the soup
Molasses bread was calling. The same recipe I’ve been making for 20 years. It’s from my Aunt “C” I have fond memories of a whole weekend at her house where she must have baked 10 loaves. My cousin “L” and I ate so much bread. Fresh out of the oven with butter or later toasted with varying toppings. Toasted with butter. Toasted with Dijon mustard. Made into a grilled cheese with tomatoes. This is the best bread on the planet and I haven’t made it in years. Today is the day.
Later, the sun was out and I enjoyed a longer, 3 mile, hike with all the dogs. Avoiding the logging I decided to go off trail. The minute I did I found a perfect deer skull. Sun bleached but somehow un-chewed by any of its fellow woodland creatures.
I found myself weaving through the trees, arms up as if I was flying through them. One up one down. Borrowed headphones sat just above my ears so I could hear both the music and the woods.
Fiamma Fumana’s “Prendi L’Onda” does not get old.
I returned home glowing and alive.
I grabbed the mail and saw the return address sticking out just enough from the bottom of the pile.
My letter had arrived. The long anticipated letter.
I still had several hours without kids.
I took the letter out back.
Laid down on the hammock and settled in for a good read.
Laughing out loud.
Soup bubbling on the wood stove almost ready for tomorrow’s dinner.
Bread rising underneath
Why not make some brownies? From scratch and organic of course.
I even mopped the floor.
All my laundry is washed and put away.
I cleaned my bathroom and the closet.
The perfect deer skull decided it wanted to live on the old chair with my ancient sock monkey and other sentimentals.
The end of the day, late at night, I return to the hammock and I witness a giant green orb shooting through the sky.
A beautiful day.
Grateful, so grateful.
This is what happy looks like