and I think it fried my computer!
Sorry I didn't post yesterday,
but today I've got the laptop hooked up
and hopefully I can struggle through with
this touch pad mouse.....
************************************
The older I
get, the less I careabout "having things".
And by that I mean things
that money can buy.
As a young bride I looked forward
to the day of having a shiny new car,
a rambling ranch style house
(with a cool den, a winding drive,
chandeliers and an English garden)-
and clothes from the best
mail order catalogs.
(Sears and Wards was all I knew.)
I dreamed of taking worldly vacations,
joining exclusive clubs,
and having so many friends
that they wouldn't all fit
in my house
when I hosted a dinner party-
(complete with shrimp cocktail,
cloth napkins, a real ice bucket,
and long conversations about
fashion, politics,
and money market accounts.)
And I would be
the luckiest girl in the world!
Perhaps it is old age.
Maybe it is simply wisdom...
But -
now all those things seem so
artificial-
shallow-
unimportant...
And most of all-
they seem like someone else's dreams.
Today my thoughts flow to a little
cabin in the woods-
unobtrusive and very rustic
with a welcome mat
and an old dog
and corny wind chimes
that are ticked by the breeze.
The rusty- but dependable-
pick up truck is parked
in the gravel drive,
still full of yesterday's
treasure from the flea markets.
There's a big screened-in porch
with a swing
and a squeaky ceiling fan
that sings to me
while I curl up with a good book.
I'm wearing torn jeans
and my favorite old sweater
and super warm slippers
that make my feet look enormous.
(But, like I said-
they're super warm...)
The calendar on my fridge
is free of any notes-
except for the special family birthdays
and anniversary's that are
celebrated in my small kitchen-
(usually with a
lopsided home made cake
and hot dogs on the grill.)
I have no appointments scheduled
or vacations planned
or people to see.
The kids and grandkids stop in
for a bag of zucchini
and fresh eggs from our hen house.
We share kisses
and sticky hugs
and long stories about school
and movies
and music
and fun.
And my best friends
are still my sisters-
because no one else really matters anyway.
My garden is full of vegetables
and jack-o-lanterns
and flowers I don't know
the names of.
And weeds.
Yeah, pretty much.
My husband comes home
and we watch the sunset.
Then after supper we take
a walk out in the woods
to a clearing where the fireflies play
and where the full moon makes
shadows on the open fields.
Our conversation
is about everything and nothing.
Mostly nothing-
except an occasional "I love you"
and "Isn't that beautiful?" and
"We need to spend more time out here."
and so on....and so on....
I curl up into my bed
under a raveled quilt-
a wood fire simmering into ashes
in the stove-
still wearing those slippers....
and I know without a doubt
that I am the luckiest woman
in the world.
