Up early wrestling with an unfamiliar keyboard. My husband’s lap top. Typing with three fingers. But. Typing still. My view is the side of my neighbor’s house across the street, the shiny yellow light from the street light winking through the leaves that have yet to fall from the tree that lives alongside of my house.
All of this is to say that I’m sitting at my dining room table Making Do. It’s different.
Different from the cozy nest I have created upstairs in my study. Where the more comfortable chair is. And there are two windows looking out onto my neighborhood. And where the keyboard is/was one I was comfortable with so my fingers didn’t hesitate as they skimmed over the keyboard.
Different, but the same.
That early morning quiet before school buses roam the darkened streets and the 9-5 ers are letting their dogs out for that morning’s first pee; that time when the sounds inside my own house are nothing more than the snoring of my dogs and the occasional house sounds of the heater coming on or the cats prowling – that quiet is my time to marshal my thoughts and spill some of them out here. And even though it’s different, it’s still the same
It’s still my time to get myself centered.
The dogs are in different places. Instead of retreating to the open crate in my son’s bedroom, Tessa is tucked into the corner of the couch. Instead of waiting until I’m settled in front of my computer – upstairs – before coming upstairs to sleep on the dog bed in my study, Josephine is stretched out on the dining room floor.
Jasper doesn’t “do” early morning unless my husband gets up. So, he is deep in slumber.
Dogs are much more adaptable to small changes in routine than we are. Which also must mean that they are much more adaptable to Larger Changes than we are. There’s a lesson buried in these lines, isn’t there?
Larger changes in the weather are coming. It was noticeably cooler out in the backyard with both Tessa and Josephine at 5:30AM. There was a strong wind stirring things up and the cloud cover was hiding all of the stars.
Felt more like the edge of winter weather than the unseasonable Indian summer weather we’ve been having. Different but the same.
Winter has been showing up after Fall for quite a long time now. There’s a comfort in the predictability of some things. And, finally, after more than 20 years of living up here, a grudging admiration for what it takes to successfully get through the seasonal darkness that winter brings.
For what I need to do. Kind of a mental gearing up punctuated with lots of color; color that started with painting the master bedroom a warm yet brilliant peachy-orange so that it will always be tropical in at least one room in my house.
Why did it take us almost 15 years to do this? [gplus count=”true” size=”Medium” ]