My house on the hill
I uploaded some photos that I took last month when I did the cupcake shots. I remember how I worked late and Lila and I watched the moon the whole way home, so plump and golden and right there in front of us so exaggerated. We rushed into the house to drop off our stuff and grab the camera, then walked down the driveway to get an uphill shot of our little house and the great, big moon.
My internal stress has reached an early high this year. The retreatment of the root canal spread bacterial infection into my sinuses, ears and chest. I’m now on 4000 mg of two kinds of antibiotics each day and my ears finally don’t hurt. My mouth tastes like I’m sucking on a bag of 100 year-old rusty nails and the tailpipe of my dad’s ‘72 pea green Vega.
So I haven’t had much energy for anything other than schlepping to work, faking my way through my job as I try to write around blinding headaches and coughing fits that make me want to stretch out on the floor of my cubicle and cry, then come home and take a dangerously hot bath to steam my body into sleep. I haven’t thought about plans for the future much other than to realize that whatever plans I want to make are a long ways off. Not until Lila’s older.
I tend to do that. Get all excited about an idea and forget about the reality of my life. That I have a toddler who needs my daily attention and wouldn’t do well sequestered in the corner of some cafe kitchen with a pile of tinker toys and some crayons. Recognizing that made me feel so much better. I don’t have to figure it out fast. I don’t have to make it happen. I can take my time, see where the flow is going, enjoy the next level of settling us into our still-new home.
I love our new home. I’m away from it enough right now.
"All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar."
~Helen Hayes
January 25th, 2007 at 9:26 am
This sounds like a good, wise decision. Love the house on the hill. The photos are wonderful! Thank you! And—we, your faithful readers, would very much miss your writing if all your time were in the oven! So, excellent you’re still with us and hope you feel well pronto.
January 25th, 2007 at 1:14 pm
Good luck with everything! I’ve been reading on and off for a while, and enjoy your thoughts. Hope you feel better soon! Sinus troubles are a big pain, I know.
January 25th, 2007 at 1:48 pm
I hope you feel better soon. I’m sorry it’s all so hard right now.
January 25th, 2007 at 4:16 pm
It sounds just awful! It also sounds like it’s beginning to ease up. Yay!!
Keep on the path to recovery.
January 26th, 2007 at 8:24 am
Get you better soon girl!! Glad you’ve found a peaceful way of thinking about things.
January 27th, 2007 at 11:25 am
I’m so sad for you reading this. Warm wishes for a mending body, soon. Your mind seems like it’s on the way. You have loads of time for your dreams, especially the really good ones.
January 28th, 2007 at 12:16 pm
I love the last line especially.
By the way, in reading your earlier post about not knowing “if you build it they will come” will work out for your organic/sustainable cause there in Ohio. Maybe you should come out to the Naropa Institute sometime. http://www.naropa.edu/
love you too much for words.
god, i miss you too.
RARA
January 29th, 2007 at 5:43 pm
Hey! That’s what my mouth tastes like too! It’s foul and I have taken to covering my mouth with my hand when I’m speaking lest the noxious fumes slay the person in front of me.
Here’s to mouths healing in good time — and to finding what we need to do in our own time.