I have made a good soup with so much garlic and onions and vegetables and chicken and peppers and lentils and a few split peas and I will put lemon juice in it before we eat it. It is simmering away. And bread is rising slowly, dense with oats. And I have wrapped my most precious plants because it is supposed to get in the twenties tonight and there go my azaleas which are budded up, purple like tiny candles on the bush and which will probably be brown tomorrow.
I hate that. But. What can I do? The bushes are way too big to wrap and what will be will be. Second year in a row.
I went looking for yeast and could not find any and ended up cleaning the cabinet out. I have rows and rows of packages of coffee which I bought last week during the buy-one-get-one-free frenzy. They are now neatly lined up and I have thrown away some stuff that was far past dates and so that feels good. I cleaned a bathroom sink, I swept a floor. I have thrown away dead flowers, washed vases. Tiny things but enough to make me feel more normal, more as if I have some control over my life. I have not watched one second of TV, crap or otherwise. I went to the post office. I have been out to the hen house more than once and I was gifted with four beautiful eggs. Two brown and two green. I looked through my iPhotos and found two pictures that a friend of Lis's wants to use for a CD cover. One from St. George Island, one from Dog Island. Some one wants to use my pictures! Such a nice thing.
Yes. I think I will live.
And to celebrate that fact and to cut through the blah-di-blah earnestness of this post, I offer you this:
I am, like Frankenstein's Monster, ALIVE!