Imbolc and the 3/4 Moon
Tuesday gratefuls: Rigel the wonder dog. Up and out today. Go figure. Kep. Half the night with Rigel upstairs, half with me downstairs. First round of cabinet stuffing complete. Safeway pickup. David Sanders. Sleep. Marina Harris. Container Store. Enlightenment. Sunny Sky. Warm Day. Colorado weird.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Rigel alert and happy to see me this morning. When I thought she might have died overnight.
Clashing movements in my life. Rigel yesterday. Enfeebled. Back legs splaying out. Coughing. Not eating. Looking miserable. Today. Happy to see me. Up on her own. Outside. Ate a piece of hotdog with her meds in it. Did not eat her breakfast so it’s not all good, but from Monday? Wow.
Wonder dog.
That silverware goes in the top left drawer. The wooden spoons, spatulas, tongs, whisks below them. The potato masher, basting brush, wooden pot scraper below them. The Portmerion punch bowl over the microwave along with the Portmerion soup tureen. Mixing bowls and measuring cups and measuring spoons in the triangular cupbard, bottom. Thermometers and scale and knife sharpeners. Can opener and immersion blender. To the right of the stove.
Roasting and baking pans, wire racks for them below the oven. Plates large and small over the dishwasher. Bowls above them. Serving dishes flat above them. Serving bowls above them. In the cabinet next to the refrigerator, bread box. Above it. Metal baskets for potatoes and onions. Above them Corning Ware.
The new furniture coming Friday, displaced from Thursday by a therapy session with David Sanders. Tom’s wonderful offer to be here if Rigel worsens to a terminal situation.
Classes this morning. So. Much. Going. On.
Jodi can’t work this week because her father in Iowa City has lung cancer and took a turn for the worse. She’s going home.
And so on. Whew.
