It is Saturday morning, it is beautiful outside. It is chilly and clear and the light is a gift and here we are in Lloyd where it looks like this.
(The one fancy pants azalea my dogs have not killed with their pee of death.)
Miss Honey. She is not "my" chicken but lives next door. Still, I find her right there every morning on the kitchen porch, waiting for a treat. And she has given me so many eggs over the years. Where she is laying now, I do not know. I envision a pile of eggs the size of a punch bowl.
This morning I gave her grapes and Honey Nut cheerios. She is such a cheerful, sweet, resourceful hen that I do not begrudge the lack of eggs. I am simply glad to see her each morning.
Okay. I have eaten my pitiful amount of oatmeal. It wasn't so bad. Bacon would have been better but...
Chores to attend to. We are talking about going to town to buy tomato plants and seeds for yard-long beans. I need four new hanging ferns for the front porch. Mine finally succumbed to age and cold. There may be a nap later. I did not sleep so well but laid awake pondering whether or not I could successfully blog in Cozumel using just my iPad. And then I began to think about underwater pictures- how could I do that? We don't have an underwater camera but have thought about buying one for the trip and I have no idea how, without my computer, I could get them transferred to the blog. Seriously. I worried about this half the night. And you know what that means?
I am myself again.
One month on the Celexa and I feel truly myself again even with all of my usual 2 a.m. insane mental ramblings. This, for me, is normal. I am grateful for that. Yesterday I went to pick up my prescription and I told the lady at the pharmacy at Publix, "I am a completely different woman than I was a month ago."
"I'm glad," she said. And she smiled.
I am smiling too.