Universal Truths

Of course nothing ever goes as planned... so I shouldn't be surprised that my day is already topsy-turvey and it's not even yet noon. Thankfully my tummy has improved dramatically. I trust that's due to all the energy I pulled from the Universe over the last three days, asking to "Let this cup pass me by". My blood work isn't back yet, but I am fairly convinced it will all be good news.

I feel lucky that way.

So I don't' mind that the tree guys wont be here 'til after lunch (if then), or that more poison ivy has blossomed on my right and left arms and left calf. It's all good: I've chosen which battles I need to win. Those were not on my list.

I haven't blogged in a while. It isn't just that I have been feeling so ill, though that did slow me down a lot. But I don't have any Internet service at home just now, so being online at the library gives me very limited Web time. Choices have to be made. Blogging is low on the list. My lack of home Internet is self-imposed. I was spending far too much time playing Bejeweled and not nearly enough doing my actual writing. Lack of access hasn't improved my productivity, as yet, but it will... I can feel it. It most certainly has affected my reading time. Little Gia has been thrilled to sit in my lap in the shade of my porch as I read the eight books I've taken out (from the library I visit near-daily). The birds come and go from the feeders all around us and G and I enjoy the heat of this temporary summer wave. It's only April. Spring returns in three days (according to the Meteorologists) and once inside I expect my writing to take me over again.

Writing is much harder than it looks. Trust me on this.

The three 60' pines that fell out of my neighbors yard and into mine in one of the big winter storms will be removed by professionals later today. Meanwhile my sons came and took down enormous amounts of split and dangling tree limbs in my front yard over Easter weekend. My curb is piled high with Patrick's chain-saw massacre. When you direct a bull adequately toward a mission, it is near-miraculous how much work he'll crank out for you. When Pat is in bull-mode, I keep the good china in the cupboards. I'm learning. He's learning. We are getting along better now than I think we ever have in our lives... well, unless you count those first six years of his life when he and I were thick as thieves. If not for Pat's enthusiasm, none of what was accomplished would have happened this past weekend. His brothers did pitch in, Michael especially, but it was all owing to Pat's remarkable stamina and stick-to-it-iv-ness. (That's a word, right?)

While Pat was busy battling the brush, Mike took a time-out to snip branches from the plum tree's pruned limbs that were piled in the street. I loved that... seeing him think to take them home, knowing they would open in a few days into luscious pink blossoms that could brighten the apartment he and Vicky call home. He offered to cut me some too, not knowing I'd already collected my own and put them in water in the dining room.

There is a richness in my soul, seeing my sons reflect some of the very best parts of my self.

Enough for now... emails to answer and stuff to research... disaster to avert... a Universe to call upon... positive energy to send out to those in need... and a laptop waiting at home for more of my magnificent (I hope) writing.