Northport, Alabama

Not really in the mood to write tonight, so I thought I’d just do my sporadic roundup of happy things:

– The grass might be dead, but the flowers are blooming all over my yard. Lilies, hydrangeas, oleanders, crape myrtles, petunias, and amaryllis. It’s not much, but hopefully by the end of summer I will be back to the garden I left behind at River Run.

– I shot baseball for AP today. It wasn’t brilliant, but it was money. I’ll take it.

– I took a nap and had a bizarre dream. And even though it ended badly, the fact that I’m having anything that resembles an average, run-of-the-mill dream is a huge improvement over last year’s nightmares. Hopefully the final moments will improve.

– I have a refrigerator full of healthy food. Normal stuff like brussel sprouts, field peas, corn on the cob, oranges, grapes, salad, water. The kind of stuff families eat. That’s kind of cool.

– I poked around in the yard today, playing with my macro lens out among the flowers. It had just rained, and the air was so cool and fresh. It felt good to be outside. To be happy.

– I’m wearing clean, comfy pajamas and I have a new down pillow on my bed.

– I have a client that I like a whole lot.

– The train is whistling in the background, and it makes me happy, remembering my train trip.

– I’m writing again. A lot. Thousands and thousands of words. I’m working on a novel, and I’m writing flash fiction. I’m even writing a smattering of poetry here and there (and no, you can’t read it 🙂

– I’m having lunch with the Sparrowgirl tomorrow, who will hopefully make me insanely jealous with tales of her honeymoon in Italy.

– I’m sitting in the living room tonight, happily ensconced in my comfy leopard-print chair with my soft blanket, watching M*A*S*H re-runs as I type.

– The kitties are running and playing tag, skittering across the floor as they race from the dining room to the living room over and over again, chattering and chirruping, sliding into walls and being silly.

– A few feet away, Nicholas is snoring softly. Content. And when I’m through typing, I’m going to take his hand and lead him to bed. Before midnight. For what will hopefully be eight to ten hours of unbroken, unmedicated, undisturbed sleep.

If none of this sounds capable of producing sheer joy, then you clearly don’t understand what my life is like usually. Because this stuff — this very normal, very simple stuff — is stunningly close to heaven for me.

Posted on June 2, 2006 by Carmen K. Sisson tagged Alabama, flowers, macro, Northport, white, writing