Did I mention I work a lot? Grown up work, meaning of life
stuff.. or at least it affects many lives with decisions about treatment and
parameters of care, and when to go home. Somedays I flow though it mindfully,
other days each case is sticky and stubborn. I was stuck in traffic for 1 ½
hours today, music from Pandora streaming through, howling to the Pixies and
wishing I had an Irish lilt so I could lose myself in the minute syllables.
Just read “Wild” by Cheryl Strayed and now I wish I could dissapear from all my
responsibilities and and hike for 3 months in gorgeous awful wilderness. The husband and boys were
settled in by the time I got home (late dinner with the boys half falling out
of their chairs), wet chickens holed up on their roost (even the two broody
bantams). I’ll work through the weekend, and the expected rain will pass me by
as I go from room to room, but the shift in the season is somehow palpable.
Nature abhors a vacuum.
The in-betweenness... Smother grass with mulch. Grow something new later..
Stop light entertainment. House Park, with Travis High School and Southside High waiting for the rain to stop. Friday Night Lights and all.. The grey feels gloomy, but it also evokes feelings of harvest time, promising that odd Texas mixture of orange everything (leaves, pumpkins, flowers) with green (grass, plants, finally free of the oppressive summer heat).
Chicken haiku text messages from a friend that brightened up my evening- these are her new chicks (3 weeks old) in the old pink coop I gave her. Soft, fuzzy and sassy. Not bad role models..
