frank’s place

St. Francis of Assisi, in memory of Jude, stands a bit tilted between my non producing apricot tree and my rescued (from crab grass) French lavender.  He gazes somewhat suspiciously at the laughing Buddha, a larger replica of the one I found in Jude’s “altar” when I cleaned out his home.  This Buddha sits majestically perched atop a recycled green bird bath post,  nestled amongst the olfactory memory evoking  lavender bush, paying no attention to Frank’s suspicious gaze.

I sit on an Adirondack chair in the warm light of the full moon, watching them.  I remember the full moon the night of Jude’s service. I have a moment of silence.

 

sometimes irreverent

They started out as a gaggle of geese undisturbed at raspberry beach, wonderful silvery feathers strewn about haphazardly with small piles of black tube poop interspersed all around.

Champie swooped in their midst and they became a skein of geese squawking like loons,  their ear splitting honks assaulting my ears.

“No no,” I cried,” Leave it!”

He swam around closer to the bank as if that was his intention all along.

aches and pains

I have insomnia … my head is wide awake, my right leg aches and my tummy is nauseous with too much Naproxan to relieve some muscle pain.

It will be interesting to see where this goes — the universe wants me to open my ears and shut my eyes and just listen to that place inside when I know that all is well and if it isn’t, well, I know this too will pass.

Grrr … hard having back yard envy at my age.