Lo and behold! I am writing this entry from the little rabbitpatch on Bonnet Street! Maybe next time, I will even have a picture of my small town dwelling, to prove it. The internet was connected yesterday and it even rained this morning -my favorite kind of morning to write. What used to be so familiar, now seems like a rare and precious gem, to me. We also now have natural gas -which means that we have heat and can cook on a stove. During the time, I waited for such things, a lot happened. First, the rental house got put in order. I met several neighbors, all delightful people. One neighbor, in particular resulted in a “reunion”!
Miss Linda was friendly and helpful as soon as she saw me working feverishly to bring beauty and honor to the long neglected property. We chatted a little briefly most days. One day, we took the time to have a real conversation. I asked her where she was from and as her story unfolded, certain names and circumstances lept out at me til at last, I blurted out “What is your last name?” When she told me, tears sprang to my eyes and again I shouted out, “Do you know who I am!?” As it turns out, we were neighbors, decades ago, when my children were little! I used to weave baskets for a shop she had and she was the one that gave my Jenny, the doll that Jenny always loved best, the endearing, “Lady Jane”- (which was a black rabbit in a calico dress). We both laughed and cried all at once. Thirty years had passed, but on that day, it seemed like it was only a short, while ago that we were friends and also neighbors.
Miss Linda has a food station in her yard, for anyone that needs to use it. Of course, I am glad for that and eager to help out. I have already heard of two cases that are just heartbreaking. Neither person had created the circumstances they are now in. Many folks dismiss the homeless believing always, that the poor are responsible for their destiny. I have heard all of the arguments that some folks prefer to live roaming about, or that they are dishonest and simply take advantage of tender hearted fools. Let me be very clear . . .I don’t care why or how someone ended up needing food. I do not care if someone lies about their needs. That is not my business. My business is my response. I have never been a good judge and have been as wrong as can be, often, besides. Therefore, the little food station keeps me humble and what joy it is to see, a small child grab something and run excitedly to show an elderly driver, what they found. If just one person, out of a hundred is helped . . to me that is enough.
I read a lot during “the time before such things” . I fell in to a routine of my job, then household tasks and supper and finally reading til my bedtime. Reading from a screen just does not have the same effect as reading from a book, for me. I was careful to select titles that were well written, with language chosen carefully-and artfully. I realised early on just how much interruptions of concentration have become so very normal and certainly had impacted my own ability to just think long and hard about something. Reading at night was like a long and tranquil meditation. Oh, I must be kind to myself and continue this practice!
In some way, I had another reunion with an old friend.
In the early mornings, I spend time on the porch -and again in the twilight time. In town, folks walk their dogs-something never seen in the rural community, that I came from. The boxer watches with me. He knows how to walk on a leash, for we trained him when he was young to do so, just in case. He does not pull or snatch a bit and sits automatically, if we stop walking. It is obvious, that I take pride in that loyal dog. Folks being pulled and twisted by their dog , often admire his stellar manners . . they should meet the cat.
At least “Christopher Robin” is still accounted for and even joins me on the porch, but he has been naughty, since the move to town and one day I threw an outright fit with him. The noble boxer, can barely handle a stern look, but the cat couldn’t care less about a scolding or my grim expressions, and is liable to ask for cream in the midst of our argument! It is a wonder to me, that we all adore him and are always there to serve him.
I went to Raleigh over the weekend. Ryan and I took a walk on a golden day under an azure sky. The trees were at the peak of their glory, and how lovely it was, to see. There was enough wind to rattle the trees and loosen their colorful leaves. We watched the dancing leaves. Ryan said “They can fly!” Cirrus clouds dotted the top of our world, that day. That is when Ryan said “the clouds are broken!” He remains a mild natured child and so bright, too. He is a very small little cherub and easy to dote on.
Now, on the home front, the old farmhouse has a steady flow of prospective buyers. I do not worry myself about it, as I did. There have been too many things to worry about the past two years and frankly, worry is tiresome and does not bear fruit, that I want to eat. For all I know, I might be moving back in months . . .or maybe not. Somehow, some way, I have become use to this state of quandary. I do not have a magic wand or a “kings’ ransom” or a crystal ball, therefore it may seem that I am “empty handed” . . . but I know different. I feel different about life in general and it is because of the past two years. . .Dare I say I have a new sense of “peace”? And, isn’t that the last thing you would expect?