I need time to myself to regroup. Re-energize, refigure. I feel very blessed that I get to do this. On my hill I let days go by where I work and ponder and dream without wanting to pick up a ringing phone or start the ignition of my car.
Today I’m going into the garden. Hair up like we’re in the 1950s. garden tools out. Black birds cawing at me.
And I’m going to work on the endless yammering of my fret monster. We call him Fretty. He is enormous and blue and would have a nice fluffy coat if he didn’t pick at it constantly until his hair looks like little bedraggled feathers.
I have such compassion for him. If he’d only stop sighing he might realize the sun’s out and the birds are singing their first springtime melodies.
On a totally unrelated note -I had to show you this. This is the Valentine my goddaughter sent me – with just a touch of help from her Momma – who is also my infamous set stylist:
The writing on the back is of-course, done in gold calligraphy letters. Ah – such yummy romance!