Saturday, August 11, 2012


It's a quiet morning in this small corner of the world. I had my PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) triggered on Wednesday, and yesterday was a day it took to get over it. A visit with a favorite professor friend, and a visit with a writer friend, and all my worries melted away.

Sometimes the zinnia and water can't do it all...I have to have reassuring contact. And my friends are all interesting. It's a very humbling experience having that many. Just as it's a humbling experience talking to you every morning.

Today, I have the riches of yet another visit and fruit and tea to look forward to. My tiny apartment will reflect the sunlight, and is bursting with a clean glow and the scent of candles. The walnut furniture has been waxed, and the pillows are plumped. A favorite picture, of my mother at 16, hangs in its mahogany frame which gleams with lemon oil. Other photos, of my brother and I in the wilds of Scotland, hang less grandly, but familiar. A sketch and a painting are nearby. The ironwood dolphin and the basket of marble eggs are older still and sit on the end tables, along with a wood carving of hands Beth gave me one year. And then there are the animal accessories...Max will leap around and one cat will hide and one will not; all is as it should be.

I wish you were here with me.

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