“I had closed my eyes and seen a place I hadn’t known existed. There was no anger, no loneliness, no jagged icy fear gnawing at the wires of my body. For that one moment, the noise inside my head had turned still and silent. If hell was real and true and all around us, then heaven was too.”
― Aryn Kyle
Thankfulness isn’t a season. I usually have to remind myself of this but the weight of the world has grown in size, getting harder to manage, like a full bucket of water that bumps against your leg and soaks your pant. Only worse.
I’ve stopped loading the dishwasher, cooking dinner, and now, stopped blogging several times to play with Piper. She is utterly in love with me like no animal has ever been. She lives just to have fun, has no fear in her heart. She makes me full-belly laugh multiple times a day. I, too, am in love with everything that she is. I, too, am so grateful just to be here, alive, to be able to care for her and all of our animals. It’s too real of a thought to think you could go to a concert and never return home.
So I interrupt everything, and play. Happiness like this is right here, pawing at my jeans and nipping at my sleeve. I am so grateful.
We had a party on Sunday and it was so nice to visit with friends, eat, and just be merry. I wish I’d snapped a photo of all four chickens lined up on Willoughby’s back when I was showing him off to our realtor. There’s always some sort of shenanigan going on it seems, and I love it. I’ve always thought our little place to be a magical hiding spot from the world, more true now than ever. This place saves me every day when I drive past our entrance gate. I see our two horses with their ears perked, our goats call to me as if to say hello, our dogs show their teeth and yelp and bounce in excitement. It is home, happiness.
This is us, another turn of the season, brightly lit with fleeting color. Soon all will be gray and white and hushed but for now, this is us, still showing some skin, still soaking in the fading warmth with our faces to the sun.