Sheila

Little Things – Day 742

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Precious Awakened – Photo: L. Weikel

Little Things

Each and every day, particularly right now, focusing upon the little things in life, the things that make us smile, is an act of self-love. Off the top of my head, listening to my cat Precious snore like a longshoreman while curled up on the back of the couch right behind me fits that bill.

And now that I start to contemplate the many ‘little’ things I’m grateful for, I see how many of them revolve around non-human creatures, especially Spartacus (our Boston Terrier), Precious, Tigger, and Cletus. I can say without qualification that they bring a dimension of joy and comfort into my life that I’d be lost without.

Tigger Snoozing – Photo: L. Weikel

You know me…recounting the joys my four-legged companions bring to my life is something I engage in routinely. And it’s not at all likely that I’ll stop dipping into the pool of love they provide anytime soon.

That’s at least partly because simply living life in 2020 and paying attention to our collective reality means we are bombarded with news that hurts our souls. Literally. Even if we only cursorily glance at the headlines just to see where we stand as a community or a country, it’s enough to drain our energy and leave us feeling defeated, deflated, or perhaps occasionally worse: enraged.

Our nervous systems are drenched in the fight or flight hormones of cortisol and adrenaline. And unlike pretty much all other times in our nation’s history, because of the ubiquitous nature of technology in our hands, we are kept mercilessly up-to-date on the latest atrocities being waged against the things many of us care about most.

Spartacus & Tigger getting some flame time – Photo: L. Weikel

Purring and Comfort and Walks

Beyond the scientific proof that the purring of cats is healing to the physical body, I for one can attest to how my cats have mended tears in my emotions since I got my first kitten at age six: Katen. Katen was a black and white domestic shorthair cat with a white hourglass on his nose. He got me through my childhood, pure and simple. He was my closest confidant (although I was lucky enough to have a couple two legged ones too – you know who you are).

It’s amusing to me to realize that he was black and white – just like my beloved Sheila and Spartacus; just like Cletus. Indeed, just like the marvelous Stinky who’s been around recently.

I love feeling the heft of a cat on top of the covers, his purr resonating through the layers of sheets and blankets. (I will admit to allowing Spartacus to nestle along my back underneath the covers. Talk about a comfort.)

And the walks. The walks are good for all of us. All of these little things, these opportunities for giving and receiving love, make my life incredibly rich. I hope you have such little things too.

Cletus with a rare smile – Photo: L. Weikel

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First Full Moon – Day 690

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Sheila’s Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

First Full Moon

Doesn’t it just figure that this most provocative and transformative year of 2020, October plays host to two full moons? The first full moon was today, October 1st. And of course the second one will be on, you guessed it, Halloween. Because what could possibly be more in keeping with the year 2020 than having a so-called “Blue Moon” occur on Halloween?

Tonight’s moon, which I’m dubbing Sheila’s Moon (just because), was especially photogenic. I actually took the photos I’m including in tonight’s post last night. I’m glad I did, because the sky clouded over this evening before I had a chance to experience her in all her glory.

I did, however, encounter a Cloud Woman this evening, running across the sky with arms flung back, her long hair streaming after her. She appeared to me to be running with abandon – not in fear, but rather in joyful delight that she had such gorgeous fields to be skimming over, toward a sunset that could melt the hardest heart with its sumptuous colors.

Cloud Woman Racing Across the Sky – Photo: L. Weikel

Joyful Abandon

Yes indeed, joyful abandon is the emotion I sensed emanating from this Cloud Woman racing across the sky. In fact, it’s possible she was prancing ahead of the rising full moon as a sort of curtain-raiser or cosmic warm-up act for the main event.

And perhaps she is dancing October into our awareness. If that’s the case, it occurs to me that we might want to engage in some quick reflection and notation. What do we notice at the edges of her skirt that she may be whooshing into our life?

Cloud Woman From Afar – Photo: L. Weikel

Perceptions

Indeed, let’s pay attention to, hone, and take stock of our perceptions! Take a few minutes to honor yourself and your feelings by jotting down what’s going on in your life as we experience this Harvest Moon at the inception of October. What thoughts occupy your mind? What hopes and dreams are you contemplating? Of course, there’s a lot about the outside world that you might want to document for posterity. But what’s also going on in your personal life? What emotions are you experiencing? What musings do you have about your life, your relationships, your place in the world?

When you think about the range of possible changes in your life, let them flow onto the page. From a numerological perspective, I’ve been taught by Alison Baughman that it behooves all of us to pay particular attention to what unfolds in our lives during October (yes, of every year), because October, being the 10th month, is a ‘1’ month – and hence is a reflection of what we might expect in our year ahead.

So as we skip across the sky with our Cloud Woman, perhaps we can set a little reminder for ourselves to take stock each week – perhaps at every quarter phase of the moon as she dances from full to full – and pause to reflect and record our perceptions of what’s going on around us, both globally and intimately. Each week might reflect what we can expect for each quarter of 2021.

It could be a fun exercise. It’s possible we might see one expression of a situation or issue or relationship now and see a shifting of that into a higher octave next year. The trick is documenting it now and then tracking it later.

Full Moon to Full Moon

But first let’s just see how this wild and wonderful October plays out on its own. What will we be thinking about and experiencing just four short weeks from now when the Blue Moon beams its light upon us on All Hallow’s Eve? We think we won’t forget these times, but I guarantee: so much is flying at us every single day, we will be astonished and grateful for having kept track. And you never know how our perceptions might change if we give ourselves permission to take the time to notice what’s really going on in our lives.

Lighting the Way to Our Future – Photo: L. Weikel

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Spartacus’s Sadness – Day 687

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Sheila & Spart’s Last Minutes Together – Photo: L. Weikel

Spartacus’s Sadness

When we let go of Sheila last Friday I mentioned to Karl that I doubted I would write about it. At least I was pretty sure I wouldn’t share it right away. But as the evening wore on, of course, I could think of nothing but Sheila, so I wrote ‘Irreplaceable.’ That’s what happens with this 1111 devotion. I deliberately refrain from planning ahead what I’m going to write about; instead, I allow whatever is foremost on my mind or in my heart lead me as I settle in to write each post. Tonight, I have to admit, I am compelled to bear witness to Spartacus’s sadness.

As I’ve written elsewhere, Spartacus was Sheila’s one and only puppy. Her only son. We never intended to breed her, but even our veterinarian felt she was such an extraordinary pup that allowing her to have a litter would be an incredible gift to all of us. We were so on the fence over it that we willingly dealt with the hassle of her cycles for four years.

Finally, we decided to take her back to the breeder from whom we’d bought her. The breeding process itself was awful. Sheila wanted no part in the shenanigans and the stud was – of all things – polite. He was not inclined to force himself on her, given her obvious distaste, in spite of what a cutie pie she was. It took a lot of persistence, and we almost gave up. But finally – success!

The only stipulation? I looked into Sheila’s eyes when it was over and she made me promise – she demanded – that I never make her go through that living hell again. We had a deal.

A Room of His Own

When we were sure the single encounter had ‘taken,’ I was psyched to midwife my little girl’s puppies! I read up on it and prepared for the big day as best as I could. We had her checked a couple of times by different people familiar with pregger pups and everyone predicted 2-3 puppies.

Of course, her labor started and abruptly stopped. Naturally, this occurred in the early evening, when our regular vet was closed for the day, thus necessitating a trip to the animal emergency room. An x-ray confirmed that our petite Sheila had one huge honker of a pup laying upside down along her spine, splayed out, enjoying the room of his own – just like he continues to sleep on his back to this day. After a touch-and-go emergency C-section, our Spartacus was born.

She Was Here Just the Other Day… – Photo: L. Weikel

Bottom Line

Sheila and Spartacus came home with me that evening and slept right beside me on the floor beside the bed, in a makeshift nest of blankets. And ever since that June day in 2008, they were inseparable.

Sheila was a great mom. She groomed him and loved him, taught him all the good stuff to eat, played with him relentlessly – and always, always cuddled him.

If you take a look at the photo above, to her very last day, he was trying to engage her with a new toy we’d bought him. Sadly, she hadn’t played with Spartacus in probably two years, as she grew steadily more blind and deaf.

Of course, we knew he would miss her. His life would be altered in a way he’d never experienced. (Neither of them ever spent time away from each other. Where one went, the other did too.) His life will never be the same.

He’s been sticking by us like glue, and we’ve been lavishing affection on him – not a hard task by any means. It’s been hard to discern between his sadness and our own. Indeed, even the cats have been subdued and withdrawn.

But when I saw him this afternoon, laying on the grass in the exact spot he’d last spent time with Sheila before we took her to the vet last Friday, I thought my heart would burst. My little boy misses his mommy. No doubt about it.

Spartacus’s Palpable Sadness – Photo: L. Weikel

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Irreplaceable – Day 684

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Sheila and her Sage – Photo: L. Weikel

Irreplaceable

As I struggle to find words to express my feelings tonight, ‘irreplaceable’ keeps spiraling to the surface.

Happy Pups: Spartacus (l) and Sheila (r) – Photo: L. Weikel

She came into our lives in October 2004 and changed our family forever.

Sheila – Queen of the Household – Photo: L. Weikel

We thought we knew love before we met our Sheila. Boy, were we in for a surprise.

Speaking of Watchers… – Photo: L. Weikel

There just aren’t any words for me to share with you tonight.

Inseparable Mother & Son – Photo: L. Weikel

This photo of Sheila and Spartacus snuggled together almost inseparably, has them facing a wall hanging we got after Karl died. In stumbling upon this tonight, I think she is letting me know we listened to her…by letting her go.  It says:

In the end what matters most is

How well did you live

How well did you love

How well did you learn

To let go

Irreplaceable – Photo: L. Weikel

Beloved Sheila: 9/17/2004 – 9/25/2020

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Familiars – Day 615

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Spartacus – A Happy Boy – Photo: L. Weikel

Familiars

I adore the four-leggeds with whom we share our life. In fact, I cannot imagine my life without having at least one of them in the family. Luckily for both of us, Karl shares my need to be surrounded by my familiars.

Nothing proves that point more clearly than that we honeymooned on Cape Cod – and adopted a gorgeous solid gray kitten at the ASPCA in Brewster, Massachusetts. Yes, our very first official act as a married couple, on the very first business day of the week following our marriage that weekend, was to drive through Cape traffic instead of going to the beach to see if we could find a kitten to adopt.

Brewster was his name and he was a trooper. While he ruled the roost for a year on his own, he oversaw Karl’s birth and eventually schooled him on the proper way to sneak hard cat food when I wasn’t looking. He gamely and not begrudgingly shared our laps with his ‘little brother’ Karl.

Fast Forward to Today

At the moment we, as you’ve occasionally been made aware, we share our home with two dogs, Sheila and Spartacus, and three cats, Precious, Cletus, and Tigger.

I could write about our beasts every night. Especially lately, they’ve been providing me with an abundance of fodder, some amusing and some sort of hard, but I’ve been trying to hold off.  Last night, however, brought a message that was hard to ignore.

Messengers

After completing my post for the evening, I made my way upstairs. Usually Spartacus is already upstairs with Karl, making a warm spot for me. Sheila, no longer able to navigate the stairs, sleeps downstairs in her soft furry bed. That makes me sad, but she doesn’t seem to mind, so I’ve become resigned to it.

Cletus religiously makes a pest of himself while I’m writing my post (every post, every night) by stomping around if he’s inside, howling to be let out, and then after he’s been outside for about 20 minutes, hurling himself against the screen door out front and sticking to it (with his claws) like Velcro – until his claws slowly rip the screen. That’s how he demands to come back in. He does this a couple times while I’m writing.

Precious is our paranoid one. If anyone came to visit (pre-Covid), she’d disappear and not be seen or heard from again. Not until the interlopers left. She’s mostly a loner, but every once in a while she’ll become frantically affectionate. It’s weird. But we love her. Even if she is a cellar-dweller.

And then there’s Tigger. We inherited Tigger from Sage after he (and his fiancé Sarah, truth be told) adopted him from a pet rescue place in central Pennsylvania. It ended up not being a great look for an RA to be harboring a fugitive kitty, so Tigger relocated to Bucks County. I think I’ve relayed the story of his name elsewhere.

Message to Mommy

Which leads me to the scenario that greeted me when I went to bed last night:

Mouse with Dog underneath – Photo: L. Weikel

I know; right? It’s as if they were lines up perfectly, in some surreal real-life enactment of a Medicine Card* pick! Mouse reversed with Dog underneath.

So freaking weird.

The only one who could’ve set this up would be Tigger. Had Precious participated in this macabre message delivery scheme, she definitely would’ve eaten the head off the mouse. Especially if she wanted to convey is as a ‘reversal.’

So. Tigger? Was that you? Were you behind this message to Mommy?

Tigger – Avoiding My Gaze – Photo: L. Weikel

Hmmph. Good thing I’m not squeamish. Poor mouse.

*affiliate link

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Keeping It Together – Day 570

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Spunky Girl Setting the Pace – Photo: L. Weikel

Keeping It Together

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m finding the task of ‘keeping it together’ exhausting.

And the weird thing is, it’s not as if I can feel my energy and resilience being drained in any given moment. No. Instead of creating a bodily tiredness that stems from sustained, productive physical effort, such as mowing a lawn or digging a garden, this exhaustion is mental, emotional, and energetic.

As a result, the profound weariness – at least as I’m experiencing it – sneaks up on me when I least expect it. It’s as if one moment I’m chugging along just fine and the next moment I’m struggling to take one more step up the steep hill we encounter every day during our walk.

Looking to Sheila

“What in the world’s the matter with me?” I wonder out loud. The expression on Karl’s face tells me he’s feeling it as well. We look to Sheila, ever the faithful hound, to save us. She happily (if obliviously) obliges, standing in the middle of the road halfway up the hill to take a breather. We kid ourselves that we’re stopping for Sheila, but we both know it’s as much for us as it is for her.

At the crest of the hill, the land flattens out and we’re greeted to the familiar expanse of the meadows where we often encounter the somewhat aloof horse that resides there. Sheila wastes no time picking up the pace that’s impressive, frankly. We wonder where she gets her energy and spunk at 15 years and 9 months. Yikes. Do the math.

It’s Everything, Of Course

Keeping it together in the midst of a global pandemic that some believe is a ‘hoax’ and thus refuse to inconvenience themselves enough to even wear a mask that might protect both us and them is a stress. Add to that the horror of watching our country cry out in pain only to be met by the angry fist of a petty, insecure tyrant. And then, lurking at the back of all of our minds is the question of whether the coronavirus is spreading like wildfire as thousands upon thousands of us march and gather in protest to the corrosive effects of systemic racism and abuse of power.

Efforts are made to practice social distancing and the vast majority wear masks…but still. The crowds are massive in some cities. The risk is huge. The price of demanding justice may become stunningly dear.

Yeah, it’s exhausting. But this is when we need to tap into our reserves. We need to drop into our core and remember what we treasure most in life. We need to find our own unique, spiritual center of calm resolve and strength. What color is it? What does it look like? Is it a place? A feeling? A knowing?

Hmm. Good questions for pondering in these volatile times.

I might be exhausted now, but I’m going to permit myself to sleep. Rest up. You should, too. We’re going to need our wits about us in the days ahead.

Sheila setting a good example – Photo: L. Weikel

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Cuteness – Day 554

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May I have more, Mommy? – Photo: L. Weikel

Cuteness

Sometimes cuteness is the only thing that gets me through the day. Especially lately. Not my own, by any stretch of the imagination. Good grief. No…I’m talking about the irresistible expressions of adorableness that I enjoy every single day at the paws of my familiars.

I cringe at the thought of imagining life without the daily dose of joy I receive from my pups and kittens. And even the fact that I refer to my old chunks of fur (none of my three cats are younger than at least 7 years old) as kittens tells you how cherished a place they hold in my heart.

It’s odd that I’m sitting here writing about the cats, though, when it’s Spartacus who’s been taking the cuteness cake lately.

Innocent Delight

Just that face; I mean really. I let Spartacus lick clean a container of yogurt the other day and this was my reward a few minutes later. The innocent delight was palpable. I could not look at him without grinning myself – and day after day I keep realizing just how precious it is to have a reason to smile.

Tonight, as I was sitting here contemplating what I could write this evening that might distract us all from, well, everything that’s going on in our world right now, I could hear Karl calling to Spartacus. Karl was trying to talk him into going upstairs with him because he’s such great company.

But take a look at where Spart was at the time he was being summoned by Karl:

Spartacus, wedged and cuddling – Photo: L. Weikel

He was wedged between my legs and the cushions of our couch. His ears curled just slightly when he heard Karl calling his name. I knew he was tempted. There’s nothing worse to Spart than being asked to split his loyalties and choose between us. But I could tell, at least for the time being, he’d found his sweet spot.

Sheila

It’s hard for me to write so much and so often about Spartacus, when he quite literally would not be here if it weren’t for Sheila. Not only is she his mother, but she also was our first dog as a family. It was a monumental decision for us to decide to get a puppy. We’d always been cat people. And let’s face it, cats train their owners; dogs, however, require a completely different skill set (beyond love, which it goes without saying is necessary for all animals).

Sheila changed our lives. If she hadn’t turned out to be the best addition to our family, Spartacus wouldn’t even have been a glint in our eye. It makes me sad now that she is so deeply ensconced within her own inner world, having lost her sight to cataracts and her hearing to old age.

And that’s not to say that she doesn’t still exude a ton of personality, as I realize I’m not shy in sharing with you. And she is the epitome of cuteness – even still – as the old gray-muzzled hound she’s become.

Part of the Family

I’m so grateful for all the animals that share their lives with me. Of course, my life wouldn’t be nearly as rich or entertained without my Sheila, Spartacus, Precious, Cletus, and Tigger. But I’d also be lost without the variety of animals that cross my path each day, lurk in the woods beside our garage, visit our feeders, prance around our compost pile, or grok at me as they swoop in to snag a peanut.

All of the creatures I’m lucky enough to share life with are a part of my family. And sometimes they’re the only ones whose cuteness can brighten my day.

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Checking In – Day 523

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One of my many vices – Photo: L. Weikel

Checking In

Rain is pattering down outside and I’m sitting here listening to it. This Friday night is cold, wet, and can be pretty fairly characterized as miserable. So I’m checking in, wondering how you’re all managing to negotiate the temptations of too much…well, too much of anything.

You name it. If you’re like me, you can over-indulge in any number of vices. Netflix, chocolate, roasted peanuts. You name it.

Yeah, I just ticked off my latest ‘big three.’

Oh my goodness. What is it with these peanuts? All of a sudden, I am absolutely held hostage by the irresistible urge to eat them mindlessly, one after another, seemingly powerless to stop. Time after time, I promise myself that this is the last handful I’m going to take from the bag – the bag I bought to feed my blue jays and fish crows, if I’m honest.

As Bad As Sheila

I’m not the only one succumbing to temptation and indulgence in this household.

Sheila has been particularly egregious in her flaunting of the social norms established in our household over the past 15 years.

No eating cat poop. That’s a pretty hard and fast rule. Well, poop of any kind, but cat poop is usually the most frequently encountered fecal fast food in Sheila and Spartacus’s pantry.

I don’t know what has gotten into Sheila lately, but she’s been veritably defiant. Honestly, I think it’s her blindness. If she can’t see us, she thinks we can’t see her? Or is it her deafness. I screetched when I caught her foursquare in the cat box this morning – and she didn’t even flinch.

Ugh. I was so angry. She knows better.

And yet she just snuffled in my general direction when I picked her up and did not exude the least bit of remorse. And she used to feel bad about being a bad girl! (Then again, so did I.)

Exiting the snack bar, oblivious to being discovered – Photo: L. Weikel

Stress Eating

All of which brings me back round again to the topic of stress eating. Man, I am struggling with this. I think the key for me is not having it around. And I wouldn’t, but for the fact that, because of this coronavirus pandemic, I do not have the luxury of running out to the store to buy stuff only when I need it.

Case in point: the peanuts I give to my blue jays, fish crows, and – albeit begrudgingly – the squirrels. Because I find myself buying a couple bags of peanuts when I go to the store, I have access to them. I can’t just fill all the feeder/dispensers. No. There’s always some left over; a bag half empty. And if I make the mistake of cracking open just one beautiful nut perfectly along its seam, exposing the precious insides, encased in their natural tissue paper wrapping, I inevitably find I am helpless to resist. I pop the delicious morsels into my mouth and am compelled to reach for the next perfect crack-and-reveal. And then the next…

Even Though I Know I Shouldn’t

So I find myself feeling some compassion for Sheila. She’s old. She can still navigate her way to the cat box and snuffle out the occasional treat. She’s been sneaking them for years – and is simply less adept at snagging them undetected anymore. Given that we close the door to the bathroom (most of the way – not entirely; the cats can’t open the door on their own) in order to deter the old coot, the mere fact that she can blindly negotiate her way into the bathroom at all is a coup that merits the reward.

I don’t know that I exhibit talent even remotely on the same par as Sheila in tracking down my peanuts. But I do know they’re probably as (not) good for me as the crusted snacks she snags for herself.

Judging from her expression, though, I’d say she clearly feels they’re worth my displeasure. Or at the very least, she feels zero remorse. UGH.

Cat litter snout – Photo: L. Weikel

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Not Fair – Day 516

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“She took my bowl” – Photo: L. Weikel

Not Fair

Sometimes life’s not fair.

Good grief. If that’s not an understatement of the century, I don’t know what is.

And of course, images and knowledge of the hell so many are enduring right now spring to mind almost without bidding. Fairness? There’s very little ‘fairness’ in anything we see playing out around us.

And so, of course, I am not invoking the suffering of so many of our brothers and sisters, neighbors and friends, and the many people we don’t know, have never met, and probably will never encounter in our lives – those who are either suffering acutely from Covid-19 or are trying to help those afflicted survive it.

Nope. I’m going for a scootch less serious here, folks.

Always the Puppy

I took the photo above this evening after I witnessed Sheila, who is blind and deaf and over 15 and a half years old, hone in on a bowl of icing I’d put on the floor in front of Spartacus. (Not a full bowl, of course. How could you even imagine such a travesty? No, just a bowl ‘to be licked.’)

Sheila was asleep. Spartacus got a few licks in – maybe three – when she opened her rheumy eyes, raised her unsteady carcass, and lurched across the room with a single minded focus that was impressive, I must admit.

Spartacus didn’t know what hit him. Well, yes he did. Sheila immediately grasped the solid, hefty glass bowl in her determined little mouth and pulled the bowl away from Spartacus, who had his face fully immersed in it. He didn’t growl; but neither did he yield. He stuck with it for another couple licks, but Sheila would have none of it.

Or rather, she would have all of it. She dragged it halfway across the room, this bowl that’s so heavy there’s no way she’d be able to lift it. But she dragged it far enough that he got the message.

And that’s when I snapped the photo. His look said it all. “She took my bowl. I’m sad. But there’s nothing I can do. She’s my mom.”

Good Boy

Karl and I told him what a good boy he was for sharing, even if it wasn’t entirely voluntary. And we paid extra special attention to him, which in Spartacus land, is every bit as sweet as any icing he might score. Plus, we knew he’d gotten in a couple good licks – that was why I’d given the bowl to him in the first place. I knew Sheila’s sense of smell remains unerring – and her love of icing may only be eclipsed by her passion for ice cream. I knew she’d be on it like lightning, no matter how deep in Dreamtime she might initially be.

We show love in so many ways. Whether we’re humans or canines, a little bit of patience, a choice to be kind or generous, a gesture of compassion. Every time we show or do any of these toward another, we make life here on Earth a little bit better.

So before you say or think, “Not fair” today, may you give a nod to Spartacus and share your bowl of icing with those you love the most – with nary a growl nor a grudge.

Yin/Yang – Photo: L. Weikel

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DST Arrives – Day 483

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Spartacus Making a Warm Spot – Photo: L. Weikel

DST Arrives

I’ll admit it: For the most part, I enjoy the extra daylight tacked on to the end of our days during Daylight Savings Time. Part of the reason, I suppose, is rooted in the fact that I’m generally a ‘night’ person, and I become more and more animated as the day wears on. Which is why I’m finding it a little distressing today, as DST arrives, to be reacting physically to it in a most illogical fashion.

I’m barely able to keep my eyes open!

I’m writing this post significantly earlier in the evening than I normally do. Which means that, from my body’s perspective, I’m writing even earlier than when I would usually consider earlier!

Exquisite Weather

Lucky for me (and those who live in my neck of the woods), the weather today was luscious. It was a perfect spring day – and by that, I mean the clear blue skies and gentle, cool breezes made me want to laugh, and walk zig-zag in the road, and breathe deeply.

Yes, it’s early in March to have such balmy temperatures. And yes, daffodils are probably going to bloom sometime this week, judging by how much they grew just in the past few days – and that does feel quite a bit too early.

But it was so liberating to walk without a jacket on! Funny, how the little things in life make us feel lighthearted and hopeful.

Tomorrow Should Be Even Better

They’re forecasting that it could get close to 70 degrees out tomorrow. A bit too warm for March 9thif you ask me, but I’ll take it. And I’ll run with it! Well, erm, no. I’ll walk with it. Not sure how far, but I did manage to walk six miles today, so I’m cautiously optimistic.

Which reminds me. Pretty soon – one of these evenings – I’m going to have to recapitulate my walking milestones from over the past year. Since I turned 60 on my last birthday, I’ve made a concerted effort to walk more than I used to. Now I have to tally things up. And then, perhaps, set new goals. We’ll see.

Puppies

In the meantime, it’s time for me to hit the sheets. It may not make a ton of sense that I’m more tired after ‘springing forward’ but it’s the truth for me. And I ask you: how could I resist the opportunity to snuggle with my Spartacus, who’s upstairs, as we speak, ‘making a warm spot’ for me in our bed?

And Sheila…well, she’s being her usual amazing, loving self, waiting patiently for me to finish what I’m writing so the two of us girls can make our way upstairs. She’s the best.

Remember, it’s a full moon today (Monday the 9th, when you’re probably reading this). Be extra kind to yourself today. Try to get outside, even if it’s only for a couple minutes, and allow yourself to drink in the sunshine and warmth. Sink your roots into the Earth and feel yourself connected to Her – solid, balanced, centered, and peaceful.

And if you’re not sure how you feel, smile. Everything will feel better if you do.

Sheila Snoozing With Her Monkey – Photo: L. Weikel

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