Sitting this morning in the same place I sat last night, the sun burns through the fog that hangs over Fran's thousand shades of green making it too bright to look at. The roar of the ocean sings to me. The grill that burned brightly sits needing cleaning. The fire that threw us glows is now ashes that also need cleaning. My bare feet dangle and brush Goddess's now restored fur after her sickness lay under the table on the beloved back deck.
The deck was crowded last night. Live music was played as steaks were grilled. We toasted with wine and achieved communion. Wooden chairs were dragged outside from the kitchen as the carnival of friends grew. We so missed the ones who weren't there. An impromptu, thrown together excuse to cook steaks that had thawed had turned into ... magic.
At one point I sat back and appreciated it happening.
"What a gift!" I said to myself.
Then Simon, the dog that lives downstairs, escaped so a search party was formed. Then Samuel turned into "Meals on Wheels" and took plates to those not fortunate enough to have been with us. Those of us who didn't volunteer for the search party sat in the chairs beside the one that I'm sitting in now.
Sitting back, the fog descends to the ground as the sun assumes control of the day. Brightness reigns.
It reminds me of the conversation last night. "Baby's got new plans," goes the song. Everybody last night has new plans ... and if someone wasn't finished making them ... the rest of us were there to help. I gotta get a Christmas tree and paint the bedroom. I was pretty easy ... the others .... not so much.
But we all got each other.
Later ... I looked at picture of a half decorated Christmas tree. It reminded me of last year for a second ... when the tree was half empty.
Now it's half full and the sun is shining down on it.
I've done a lot of stuff, but Baby's got new plans.
After the bedroom is painted ... and I mean that allegorically ... the realism of it is so much better than the color ... then the rest of those new plans ... are coming.
