I’m sitting here, reading a Melissa Foster book, rounding out a day that started yesterday with rain and then snow ❄. Its cold outside, but my glass of cabernet savignon is warming me.
The book is sexy, the temperature is 40°, and I’m looking at my sleeping German Shepherd Millie curled up on the couch. Also watching my polydactyl calico cat Cleo curled up dozing in the rocking chair.
Snow is low on the mountains, and the clouds are low in the sky. There is a hard freeze warning for our area which means I will have to cover the outdoor plants that are vulnerable.
I’m enjoying my solitude. I have times when being alone and quiet gives me comfort. I think with age we find these times exceptionally valuable.
So to all you lovely folks waiting for inspiration – gaze at the stars, listen to the soft breathing of a sleepy puppy, and relish the complexity of a good wine.
I have three little guys who live next door that display all the characteristics of the male human. They are brothers but are so different from each other that I have to treat each one as individuals.
The oldest is a very typical older brother. He is more serious, he takes charge of the younger ones and likes to hang out with his dad. I love watching him as he is the boss. His life understanding is growing, I can hear it when he scolds one of his brothers for a perceived misbehavior. He also will direct them on how to interact with others. If I am working in the house and one of the younger ones comes in I will hear him as he follows them and tells them not to intrude or interrupt. His word is respected as the oldest.
The middle one is just that. He is a people person who loves to talk. He can talk pretty much about everything and he is always wanting to come in my house and “just be quiet” while I work. Yet when I explain that it is hard to concentrate knowing someone is here while I write or sew he will try another tactic. Usually the older brother will coerce him into leaving. But before he leaves he always hugs me and says “I love you.”
The youngest fella is the baby and in typical youngest fashion cannot do all the things the other two can. He is so cute with his big wide eyes and happy face. If he is playing outside and he sees me he waves and yells out “Hi Nancy!” If I say hi but don’t say his name he will remind me what it is. Maybe this is to make sure he isn’t lost in the crowd? I’ve told him that when he is finally in first grade he can come over and play with my dog Millie like his brothers. He is trying to be understanding.
These boys have been raised well. I don’t hear yelling and fighting. They get along with each other and there is a love there that can only have come from their parents example, instruction and direction. I like those guys.
When we first moved out to Catalina in 1991 the father of these youngsters was the age of the middle son. We watched him grow up, get married and have kids. To him we have always been here and it is fun now to see his sons grow. To be a part of this process all over again is interesting. When I told the boys how long we’ve known their dad they were pretty impressed. Probably that such an old lady can remember so well! Haha.
Life goes on.