Out of Time

Inspirational song: Dancing With Tears in My Eyes (Ultravox)

As the time to go to the airport approaches, I am having a harder and harder time keeping it off my face and out of my voice. I told the man last night that I changed my mind, I didn't want him to go after all. It didn't seem to work. Not that I expected it to.

I'm trying to keep my new routines this morning, even while I am totally losing my shit on the inside. I walked the same route. I noticed today that one of the close in neighbors planted a row of purple salvia and pink impatiens along the walk to their door. I will be interested to see how those impatiens hold up in the sun, since last week they took down the Bradford pear that shaded the walk. It might be amusing to track the flowers' progress against my own, since I don't expect me to last through the entire summer heat either.

The man and I have spent a lot of time out in the Park this week. There is so much to do, so much he won't get to work on this season. It will be a real test for me, to see how much work I am able to do alone. That I am out here at all is still a miracle to me. Since I first toddled onto a lawn as a baby, I have been allergic to almost everything that comes in contact with my skin. When we first moved to the Low Country, I was topping off my daily Allegra with bumps of Benadryl. It still wasn't enough. But then we bought the Park, and it all stopped. I don't know whether to credit the local honey we started buying, or some other change in my chemistry. But I stopped taking all allergy meds, and I don't miss them one bit. I even yanked out piles of poison ivy yesterday, and it absolutely brushed up against my forearms. I got to it early, got clean, and so far no rash. Something about this place is right for me. I guess when you find where you belong, you flourish. A few weeks ago, when the man built our garden shed, he moved some roses and spirea that had been spindly and sickly, next to where the building went in. The roses survived the move, which pleased me. What surprised me was how well the spirea is taking off in its new location. I repeat, for emphasis, when you find where you belong, you flourish.