may lessons

“Lots of people go mad in January. Not as many as in May, of course. Nor June. But January is your third most common month for madness.” 

― Karen Joy Fowler, Sarah Canary

May felt like a big, deep breath of relief. I backed away from the online world (yes, once again) and discovered some free time. I used it wisely to read, or work in the garden, or maybe just sit for twenty minutes and watch the lake. I used it for a stir of the moment date with Percy to feed the ducks, and dinners with my kids. I caught up with cousins in person and by phone, called some old friends and booked us a trip to the coast.

I took 603 photos in the month of May with my Nikon, and another hundred or so with my phone. Some were shared with family, some were shared here. There were a few put up on flicker, where Baker and I are on week 22 with other dog lovers, while others were set aside for a few projects. And of course several were deleted.

May brought the first greens out of the garden, the first rose, and longer days. So much longer that there were some nights when I found myself in bed with a bit of light streaming through the open windows. May will go down as a month of awakening for me.

I am hoping to continue filling my days with what I am calling real life now.

good advice

“Watermelon — it’s a good fruit. You eat, you drink, you wash your face.”

— Enrico Caruso

I spent a good part of the day with Percy. We took a long walk, looked for books in the sidewalk little libraries, stopped at the park, played and had a snack, followed garbage trucks, spotted squirrels and one black cat. Once home we sat and ate several slices of cold watermelon because, as he told me, watermelon is good when you are thirsty.

things to savor

“Instead of constantly asking ourselves the question of why we're here, maybe we should be savoring the simpler truth: We are here.” 

― Mikki Brammer, The Collected Regrets of Clover

I wake, determined to book a few night for us on the Oregon coast. Surprised to find a few opening at the end of June, I am so happy when I am successful. The kids commit to dog sitting and suddenly I find myself having something to look forward to.

I walk the yard in the early evening and find the peonies opening and the Irises all in bloom. The Irises will be gone tomorrow, for the deer love them. But, they are here today to savor.

my own life

“I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting along. I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wandering awed about on a splintered wreck I’ve come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe a delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty beats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them, under the wind-rent clouds, upstream and down.” ~ Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

the fern in the front yard

My days unfold with a consistent pattern, my disposition and mood changing as the hours pass. I think of new projects I might start, getting away from the drooling words and emotions that come from where? I am not sure. I think about perimeters to make me accountable, I think about just doing. I ponder why and how I arrived where I am, wishing I was a poet or maybe a chef. The love I feel unfurls at times, taking over all common sense, only to close back up tightly for protection. I spend hours trying to find my way through others experiences, stepping onto the paths others have followed, only to lose more of myself.

I think it is time to inhabit my own life.

in the garden

“People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.” 

― Iris Murdoch

I walk the garden each morning in my pajamas, curious, as the garden unfolds. Last winter’s bitter cold was hard, and some plants are late to the party, while others just don’t show up. Sometimes hacking away at branches in early days of spring brings more growth, and sometimes it leaves a hole. I move among the flower beds welcoming each plant back for a new season. I tuck a few new ones in here and there, and fill some pots with fresh herbs, happy gardening season is in full bloom.