As I sit here, staring at this blasted screen my husband is playing the guitar and singing me a song. My girls, meanwhile, are running through the sprinklers and their joy is so effervescent that kids walking by stop and smile at them. Then moments later come back in their bathing suits to join them. The dogs are panting and one is repeatedly nudging my hand. It's a sweet yet digusting wet-nosed gesture. Also, it's a little hard to type while fending her off.
In the other room sits a painting that I am working on. It's a good start but there's some trouble with it that I haven't quite figured out yet. I am taking a few days to ponder it, get some perspective. However, this makes me nervous because what if like some of my other paintings I don't finish it because I lost my momentum? Paintings are so much harder than writing. If I don't finish some writing, it hides quietly in my computer or my notebook. It isn't physically present for people to ask about.
As I write, as my husband sings, are house is slowly sinking around us. The result of years of moisture eating away at the joists and girders and floor. Too many men have crawled under there and come out shaking their heads at me as I stare wide eyed with fear about what they are about to tell me. This house, what a mess this house has been, one thing after another. But it's our home, it's where my children will remember playing in the sprinklers. It is going to kill our pocketbooks. Oh well, at least it can be fixed. At least we have a shelter.
Looking outside through the windows it looks deceptively green and cool, like spring. I know that if I open my front door it will feel like stepping into a hearty, beef stew. It's muggy and hot but thank God it's so beautiful, safe, and peaceful.
There's a pan of vegetable lasgna in the oven, The work of my husband and I, we made the noodle, chopped and cooked the veggies and put it all together. It was nice to cook with him, we don't do it often enough.
What's going on with you right at this moment? Send me a link or put it in the comments.