The house is sold.
The new owner sent me the most lovely of lovely heartfelt notes, a true blessing, love, glitter, cavorting wild ponies. I felt more than moved, I felt shifted. Like a wonderful gift had been passed on to the next person who needed it. A talisman of sorts. The house saved me after Jeff's death. It was my declaration that life was worth living, creating, and gardens were worth planting. I am not sure the timing for the new owner, but I feel as if maybe, for them, it is just the right time too. And maybe, maybe, this is just the right thing for me in this moment, a gathering in, contemplation, hope set out like river stones, unread runes.
I am exhaling.
Feeling my knots loosen just a little. At least that knot. Those knots.
Beloved objects passed along to be beloved. Nothing is lost that way really.
I have a weird relationship to love. I tend to love with intensity, sometimes grudgingly, but then, with impressive tenacity.
Daycare begins maybe next week for my gregarious Della.
I am ready to have a more consistent schedule so I can work and create with a more steady foundation of knowing what days are for what... I do better that way, scaffolding I guess. The wire net under plaster.
So-- today, working. TammyLove is here after her vacation, and Della is so happy (as am I).
This morning, up before 4 to watch Orion rise over the trees, his belt vertical.
Me, I'm tired, my heart is sore, I have a LOT of work to do that I am avoiding but will plunge back into once I hit post.
I am ready for simplicity I think. Calm. A while of not frantically seeking work/packing/unpacking/freaking out...
I am ready to be for a while.
So, yes, exhalation.