What Keeps Me Sane

There's a lovely satellite image of why it's going to be a rainy day here in Florida. We woke up to deep gloom and a stillness and now the rain is beginning to patter down. A good day to be at home.
Thank-you, Tropical Storm Debby for bringing us rain and no real danger.
Mr. Moon always reads me the stats for what's going on in the Gulf from the paper and today seas are 8-11 feet and so thank god, he's not on the island but safely here, waiting for his breakfast. I have pancakes made with pureed blackberries, bananas, flax and pecans cooking. Buttermilk and yogurt are in there too. And there's bacon.

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Breakfast over and it was good. I always cook about ten times the number of pancakes we actually eat. This morning after breakfast I said, "We might as well give them to the chickens now. You know they're going to get them eventually."
It's true.

The rain is coming down a bit harder now, there is something of a breeze. Distant storms are naught but blessings, especially if no one is getting pounded and with this one, most of the action is happening in the Gulf and hopefully, boats are far away. Not sure what we'll do today. Stay inside mostly.

Yesterday Lily did bring the boys out. Owen helped his Bop work on the tractor and then they came in and played chess. Okay, no, he can't really play chess but he likes to set up the board. He moves constantly that boy. I can't get a good picture of him to save my life.
He will stand still for a second, put his finger up to his cheek and say, "I have an idea!" and then zoom! off to put the idea into place. Of course his grandfather and I follow him around, helping out with the ideas. He loves to get out the giant floor puzzles and scatter the pieces and then tell us to put them together.
"Aren't you going to help?" we ask.
"Oh sure, sure," he says.

Lily was so tired. Gibson had gotten up at  4:30 in the morning and although he wasn't unhappy, he hadn't wanted to go back to bed until around 7:30. Just a happy, awake baby. We all had a sort of snacky-lunch in the kitchen, Owen and Bop sharing cut-up watermelon, and stabbing the pieces with cocktail swords which I buy specifically for Owen's eating pleasure. I'm a fool for him. We passed Gibson around like a party favor.

He really is that sweet. 

He and Lily took a little nap in the Panther room after our lunch and Bop and I played with the Idea Boy. We read part of a book, he and Bop hai-yaa'ed with bamboo sticks, we did puzzles, he pooped, Mer-Mer cleaned him up, it was lovely. Not the poop so much, but he was a good boy and let me change his diaper without much fuss and I don't know. There's not much I don't enjoy doing with him. He's so funny.  

Lily had promised Jason's mama that they would come over to swim in the early afternoon so when she and Gibson got up from their nap, she packed the boys back up and we got them all in the car and buckled up and they drove away. "I love you!" Owen called through the window of the car as he always does. And then Bop and I came in and tidied up the place and then Bop had to go sit in his chair and rest his eyes for awhile. 

I did some laundry, I wrote that post about Sandusky, my soul boiling a little. I took a little nap, I worked in the garden, weeding the new zinnias. 

I made us a dinner while listening to Prairie Home Companion that finally didn't make me sigh with frustration at how it turned out. Chicken and dumplings, but the way I do it, it's more of a slightly thickened chicken stew with dumplings thrown in to simmer at the end.

Here's how it looked before the dumplings went in. 

We watched another episode of Deadwood. 

Went to bed, read some very, very gentle chapters in Alexander McCall Smith's The Comforts of a Muddy Saturday and then slept. I had dreams that were only slightly disturbing. 

And that is how I do it. 

I don't take an antidepressant any more. Haven't since I left Mexico last January. But I do very much realize that I make my days as soothing and uncomplicated as I possibly can. I can't always, of course, but I do when I can. It's not even much of a conscious effort at this point in my life. I just center myself around this house, this yard, these chickens, this garden, these meals, these words, this writing, those babies, my children, my husband. 

Am I missing out on things?

Surely.

Well. 

We're getting pictures and a little video of what's going on on Dog Island this morning and there is nothing soothing about them. High winds and high water and although yes, I am so glad I'm not there, I know that storm exhilaration. But still...I'd be anxious, I'd be watching our beach erode even more. I'd be worrying myself sick about how we were going to cross the bay with 8-11 foot seas. The weather alert system would be going off every fifteen minutes with its alarm and robot voice, warning of water spouts and high winds and heavy rains. Better for me to be here where the rain is more gentle, the wind barely at all, and the ground receiving the water rather than being washed away by it. The frogs are trilling, the power is still on, another Sunday, I am still here, I haven't gone crazy. 

I know that the world is moving on all around me and great joys are occurring, great excitement, great tragedies, too. Right now, this second though, it is calm and peaceful here. I am grateful. Sundays can be difficult but I am spending this one in my soft, green nest of trees and plants and falling rain. 

I am, quite simply and perhaps selfishly, keeping sane.