I am glad I read it and I would recommend it. It gets into the deep darkness of the hard stuff and yet it celebrates the great glory light which can still surround us as well as the small, quiet moments of life which are, in the end, perhaps the most important of all.
So I turned out my light after I closed my book and Maurice was on the bed, but on the edge of it, on Mr. Moon's side, facing out into the room and she stayed there all night long except for one time when she came over and tried to get me interested in petting her which I ignored because her teeth were involved and it was late in the wee, wee hours and I was more invested in sleep than in cat-petting. She went back to her perch on the edge of the bed and that's where she was this morning when I woke up. She is doing her job because I slept safely and sweetly all night long.
It's quiet this morning, this Sunday morning in Lloyd, and I'm going to go into town soon to hang out with Jessie and do whatever she wants me to do or needs me to do. I hear that Vergil is steady-on with some house-hold chores, soldering wires for a sound system or something that men like Vergil enjoy. The only thing I really have planned for myself today is that I want to tidy up the back porch. This is not much of a goal.
So strange, so strange, this being by myself. I like it. I don't get lonely. Probably because I know that in a week my husband will be home with all of the woods and the stories and the dirty laundry with him and my "real" life will crank up again.
Until then, I'm pretty darn content to be here, quiet with such a small amount of cooking and washing to do that it isn't even worth thinking about. I started knitting last night after my supper, watching "Frida" and although I've seen it before, I was enchanted by it again.
Perhaps underneath it all, I am the thing I claim to loathe the most- a narcissist. I like having the house to myself, being able to choose what I want to eat without consideration of anyone else's needs. I like reading in bed with a cat to keep watch, for as long as my eyes can stay open.
Or perhaps I am just a woman who spent a good many years raising children and going against her natural grain to be out in the community, doing things for and with others, and now I am simply nestled into the comfort of being alone. And overall, I know that this alone-time is limited and that if I get bored or restless, there are children and babies to go and do with.
I gave birth and raised my own best friends. How lovely is that?
Meanwhile, best not to try and beat life into a dead horse. It is what it is and I am who I am and I know for a fact that the only times I ever truly felt safe as a child was when I was alone and so there is that to consider and acknowledge.
I think I'll go cut up some grapes for the baby chicks and then slowly get myself ready to go to town.
Jack has taken over guard duty and lies on the porch floor, watching the goings-on in the backyard.
Such a small, small life.
And for now, right this second, perfect for me.