Beltane Closing Moon
This morning I got up as usual at about 5:30, turned on the hall light and the downstairs light. Kep had thrown up something, looked like light fur. I wiped it up with a towel after an oh no. It came up easily, not wet. That was good. I let him outside through the downstairs door.
On the couch I picked up my phone, swiped to open it, swiped again to move to the second page where my health app resides, found the oximeter, pressed it and then pressed measure. After 30 seconds or so, a number popped up. 93. My usual early morning reading. Still below normal or average, but not in the OMG zone. A cascade of thoughts about smoking, decisions long ago effecting today, could I have some pulmonary disease? Then, just as quickly. Oh, stop. No good comes of this. Let it be until we get more data.
Upstairs to pour a cup of coffee, let it sit while I head to the garage to let out Vega, Rigel and Gertie. When I snick open the crate, I call each dog’s name and run my hand over their body as they bound out: Vega, Rigel, Gertie. Each dog momentarily presses their body into my hand. We acknowledge each other and they’re out the garage door. Back among the ponderosa’s they sniff, run, urinate. A soft blue sky with hazy clouds is over them now, not the darkness of night that greeted us all just a month ago at the same time.
This is my usual morning. It also involves walking to the road to pick up the paper, feeding the dogs, letting them out again and waiting until they return. After they’re all back inside, I go up to the loft to read my e-mail, write a post here and exercise.
Which I’m off to do right now.
