It is a cold grey day, and soon it will be time to take my little body, soap it up and give it a rinse. Then I’ll be allowed in public. The neighbours on one side are having some sort of altercation and the unending barking of their smaller dog is in rare solo mode – I almost ALWAYS hear the BIGGER dog (Champ, oh so cute when he was a puppy) – and is probably not doing anything de-escalate the tension. Their kids are out front raking the yard into submission, probably preparing it for spring, but ironically just in time for snow.
March March March.
I’ve been feeling the drastic itch to get out of town, to wander and to roam, but we don’t get to go anywhere till the end of the month and even THAT has been truncated thanks to a venue dying out from under us. The All-American Valley open mic and music scene was a pretty wonderful thing, but I always worry that communities don’t outlast their homes – I hope they can find a way to keep coming together. That place was so much more than it’s… place… and as someone who’s seen MANY places come and go, I hope they’ve got some community leaders with the wherewithal to go beyond simply hoping they can hold things together. It’s the difference between signing the year book “friends forever!” and actually picking up the phone. Maybe the grey is making me melancholy. The hot shower will do me good. Next door, the neighbours and the neighbours’ dogs have quieted down. There’s no noise but the refrigerator and I’m realizing just how rare that is in this house. Tapping of keys, creak of chair, the TICK of the cooling stove. It’s a pleasure to sit and listen for something… and hear… nothing.
I Love Living in this moment. And then something sets Champ to barking again. It’s supposed to snow tonight. Maybe tomorrow will be beautiful.
