|raking. that i artfully avoided whilst home.|
|flowering, in december.|
|a basket acquired at a yard sale. with a serious lean.|
|yogurt and raw milk. both from my island. both happily perfect in taste.|
|dress-up. trying to decide on a dress for the christmas party.|
|marcel. my companion this past week-end.|
|the 'before' of a family photo.|
|i love every inch of the house i grew up in. but most of all this room. with this rug. and this table.|
|it's not every december 4th one can sit on the deck of a boat and fully enjoy the sun in Her glory.|
i used to worry a lot. it fed my insomnia. or my insomnia fed my worry. either way. i was always worried about everything. and then i moved to california. and whatever it is in the ocean air, you are enabled to stop worrying. life is so goddamn beautiful in california that you couldn't possibly have anything to worry about. it's so simple to say that a state takes your worries away. of course i'm Simplifying. but it's nearly midnight here and so i allow myself such a late night extravagance. something did take my cares away. something eased my brow for the last several years.
and now something has changed in the past few months to fill me top up with worry.
i worry a pack of coyotes will attack and eat me on my way to tuck in the chickens...in the middle of suburbia.
i worry that our christmas photo won't stick to the wood-backing as planned and will fall off...off friends' mantels and refrigerators.
i worry that rose will get another rubberband stuck improbably around her snout like she had this morning.
i worry that the baby chickens are cold. every night.
i worry that bella doesn't like her hay and that we won't be able to afford the $9/bale horse hay this winter that she likes best.
i worry that i'll never live again, for a long stretch of time, on the island where i grew up.
i worry the emails to which i never respond will disappear and the loved ones awaiting my answers will assume the worst.
i worry that the world will really end next december. sometimes. just for fun.
i worry...i know...that i don't talk to my two best friends enough at all.
i worry over every bump on rudy's body, hoping he's not as old as he says he is.
i worry rocco cat is still lost somewhere on cape cod and that i've missed the craigslist post saying he's been found.
i worry life won't be as peaceful here as it was in north carolina.
i worry we won't have as much space, as much land, here as we did there.
i worry obama won't win the 2012 election.
i worry i haven't set aside enough squash, enough cabbage, enough onions, enough food for us to enjoy through winter.
i worry about where on earth i'm going to find parking in the south end tomorrow.
i worry the townsfolk will smirk that my hair is one big snarl and that i smell like muddy pig.
i worry that i won't be able to fall asleep until too late tonight.
i know it's dreadfully unhealthy to worry. i know it's boring. it's pedestrian. so i need to shake it. it's just that...somedays (or some months, as this case may be) the responsibility of It All is terrifying and you worry that something's got to give. and all you can do is hope it's something small, like the parking.