Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

I am anxiously awaiting the wallpaper I ordered for my dining room. I decided to do one wall to see if I like it, but I've always been pretty good at envisioning what something will look like, and I believe the wallpaper I ordered will look lovely. If not? I'll peel it off and keep searching for the wallpaper that will ultimately work. The last couple of days I've been going through the house and collecting anything that has run its course for me. A blue wooden rooster with part of its beak missing. A sailboat I bought years ago while on vacation in Michigan. Books I've read and won't read again. Pictures I've had on the walls for years that no longer move me. My hope is someone else will enjoy these little things as much as I have through the years. I've not gotten much gardening done so far this summer. A few pots of petunias and a small area of nasturtium is about it. I finally blocked off the garden closest to the garage to keep Sunny out. He's a dig...

Today is a better day than yesterday. And yesterday was better than the day before it. I guess that's all I can ask for. Last Thursday evening, I experienced pain like I've never experienced before, even when going through natural childbirth and having a 10 pounds 9 ounces baby. That was difficult. Last Thursday was impossible. No matter what I tried to do, the pain gripped my hip and leg, squeezing like a vice. At one point I wondered if I had broken my hip. What made the whole situation worse was the doctor and the nurse not fully understanding how much pain I was in. Even after being given a pain med, which I was lectured was very easy to become addicted to, the pain didn't ease. Not one bit. If anything, the pain worsened. I was sobbing, truly sobbing, yet the doc and nurse kept insisting it was sciatica. I knew it wasn't. The CT scan proved me right. Today, the pain is manageable. Ibuprofen and a heating pad across my lower back eases the pain significantly while I...

A year. That's how much time has passed since the last time I sat in my hammock swing. At odd moments during the past year, I'd think about my swing and wish I had it. But I had no place to hang it. I finally bought a stand, and now, my swing is on my deck. When I settled into it late yesterday afternoon, I felt like a kid with the best gift ever. Just sitting and swaying, losing track of time. I read my book. I watched the Carolina wrens. The babies had left the nest about two weeks ago, but the whole family shows up each evening and hunts for dinner in the side yard. Mostly I just sat, eyes closed, and listened to the cicadas.  The air smells different now. During spring and summer the vegetation gives off a vibrant odor. Now, hints of autumn waft on the breeze. I think of the color brown when whiffs of falling leaves and annuals reaching the end of their life drift on the air. A chipmunk joined me on the deck for a few minutes. Its cheeks appeared packed full, bu...