A Progress Report

I'm feeling grateful tonight.

Slowly but steadily I'm getting into the rhythm of "living solo", as my blogworld friend Diane suggests I call my new life.

Spring has helped greatly.

The sun comes up early and I awake to birds chirping, Lucy snuggled up to me purring and Gus watching us both from the bottom of the bed. Much nicer than an alarm clock.

I make my espresso and glass in hand take a stroll around the garden.

I admire the new growth and make a mental note of what needs to be done later.

Later means another stroll, this time with both kittens leaping around me and eventually finds me on my knees doing what else but weeding. I give myself a 7:30 work curfew.

Or if it's Wednesday I'm working out with my faithful friend Rina who in a former incarnation was a trainer.  Former my ass, she's  killing me.

Then we sit in a cafe drinking coffee and solving the problems of the world, well our worlds.

On Thursday I go to Zumba with my neighbor Rachel. We're in a groove now but that first night was a stretch. It was 85 degrees out, 95 in, my fingertips were swollen and pulsing as my body tried to cool down. I was positive I was having a heart attack. I looked around the room and yep, I was the oldest shortest person there. And I was pretty sure Rachel didn't even know my last name.

But I survived. And every week has gotten, if not easier, much more fun.

Friday, the garden. Saturday, work and more garden with some time with friends and neighbors.

Sunday I will have another group of friends to dinner.

And with me, if I'm cooking, all is right in the world.

At the end of the day I take a bath, ice my shoulder and do a 100 situps. Then, as directed, I text my friend Rina "done". Truthfully, that text is not sent every night.

And then I go out on my little back deck.

I don't look down at the nails that need to be replaced or the stain that needs to be redone. I try to ignore the lights from the hotel shining across the street.

I look up at the stars. And I feel relief that another day is done and I've taken care of myself and the kittens. We're all fed, the litter is clean and the house is filled with flowers.

It's been a bumpy few months, but with the help of friends, from real life and the internet, I'm coming back.

A little battered, a bit bruised, but kinder I think. Humbled. Though sometimes angry. That's all right too.

Of course there's always the lawn to worry about....









xo Jane