I love my new place. It’s a blend of old and new. It’s open and airy, yet cozy and comfortable — all the things you see in ads to entice you.
I love my kitty. There’s something so…silly…about the way she looks. I can’t help but smile, even when she’s sinking her teeth into my hand, or pouncing on my feet, or licking my cheek to get up.
I love my walk to work. There are people walking dogs, jogging, going to the local law school nearby. I have taken two pictures so far of vines on fences. Yeah, you heard that right. VINES. ON. FENCES.
There are some property-proud people in my neighborhood. My house is that way, too, but I don’t do the work. My downstairs neighbor does all that, and I get to live in it’s beauty, and occasionally am offered some of the bounty.
I listen to my new favorite artist on my phone on my walk – Hozier. I sometimes sing out loud with him. I have always done this kind of thing softly, but lately I think, what the hell? I know I must look like the special needs girl at the bus stop who sings at the TOP of her lungs to music no one else hears. And, so what? I’ve always admired her abandon.
I like that I can mostly (more than in the last 25 years) predict things: my day, my bank account, my relationships.
It’s almost overwhelming, which is a thing with me. A good thing.
Who said that?
Martha? Is that you?