Yesterday was a rare day off for me and Thing1 at the same time, and, with Thing2, we decided it would be a good day for a hike and a movie once the sun got hot. We found the Heart of the Forest near Lye Brook Falls in Manchester and then retreated from the heat to watch the new Spiderman movie.
It’s been a while since I’ve been at my easel, and the first day of vacation seems like a perfect time to get back to it. I picked my favorite spot to dive back in.
After T1’s morning emergency downgraded from ER visit to “watch and wait”, I tried to go back to sleep. For months and now years, however, I’ve been training my body to wake up on the weekend for work.
Sometimes I also get up early enough to paint or right before signing on to do tech support. Since I’ve switched jobs, my weekends switched over to studying for teacher certification exams , and, this morning, I realized I’ve lost the ability to sleep in.
I’ve never mastered the art of using those quiet spaces for meditation or lounging for very long or doing any other activity that isn’t really an activity. So, this Sunday morning, when everyone else is still sleep, I find myself puttering around the house trying to think of what to do. One of the great things about puttering around the quiet spaces, however, is that you bump into projects you put down to do important things like work and study. This morning I bumped into my binder of creative projects — books waiting for those final illustrations or just waiting to be finished, cartoon punchlines waiting to be drawn — and remembered that it was one of the reasons I wanted to make the jump to teaching. I wanted to have more time on the weekends (and summers) to write and paint. I wanted a job where creativity is an asset, not a distraction.
Since I’ve been teaching, I’ve been able to pour so much creativity into my work life, even while studying late into the evening every night. But this rainy Sunday morning that wouldn’t let me get back to sleep, the first since my exams have been complete, was an unexpected gift. It was a reminder to get back to the creative work in my life.
it’s 5 AM, And all is right with the world. We Celebrated Father’s Day dinner the night before so we could sleep in, and the house is vibrating with the sounds of soft snoring. My furry gray and orange foot-warmers are sleeping at my feet, and the rain outside is the perfect White noise machine.
Then comes the phone call. I’m trying to get me on my cell phone and then the house phone. Worried he may have food poisoning and unable to pass anything, he calls for me to bring him his home remedies. I bring them, and as he takes the medicine, we make plans for when we go to the emergency room.
Food poisoning, or any other digestive issue, is an entirely different ball game with ulcerative colitis even when you think you’ve cured the bulk of the chronic illness by removing most of the affected organ. The thing is, a chronic illness is never really gone.
i’ll check on him in another few minutes, and will figure out a game plan. All will still be mostly right with our world regardless of the strategy because, as his disease has taught us all over the last few years, there are good mornings and bad mornings, but the good ones still outnumber the bad.
“Aren’t you supposed to make a wish when you blow on a dandelion?” I asked my husband.
“Yeah?” he answered.
I looked at our yard full of wishes but couldn’t think of one I wanted — aside from the obvious ones like world peace, an end to poverty, etc… So I closed my eyes and blew.
I could tell what I wished for, but then they won’t come true.