My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Dears-

Thanks to my sweet Jude, I'm in a snug apartment in the woods by Port Townsend far away from the inevitable fireworks. The dog is panting and watching me, after we romped on a horse trail behind the cabin. There's no TV and the noise is mostly birds and wind in the trees. The owners live in the house across the way. They've got two big gentle dogs that Felix ran with.

We did have to wait for the ferry, a fact of life here in the NW. It was pretty pleasant with the NYT to read and treats to snack on.

Tomorrow I think we'll venture into town for breakfast and a long walk on North Beach, on the Strait of Juan De Fuca where there is an off-leash dog part. Felix will run his heart out and get full of sand. And tomorrow night, we'll see how noisy it actually is out here.

I'm full of gratitude to be here, away from the mad city. And work. And constant demands because of work. Time to continue to mend my heart. And meditate. Read and write.

Thinking about the kitty R adopted. Lucky critter because R has great compassion for the wounded and lost. This temporary life! As inexplicable as my actions regarding Houston are to her, I'm sure, it was an act of mercy for both of us. No harm if we are not together. I'm not interested in airing the particulars here. It's not an 'I'm right, she's wrong' situation. It's my pursuit of a peaceful and harmonious life that is most important now. At this age. I think I can have that. For the time remaining to me. Twenty years? Twenty months? Twenty minutes?

Now the trees are swaying and whispering outside the windows. Blessed forests, living and dying all together. O to be alive right now. Lucky, I'm very lucky.