Yesterday evening I drove away from work for the last time, feeling such freedom and thanking goodness that it was still light outside (more than just light, bright sun right level with my eyes). Arriving at the birthday party where the barbeque was loaded full of brightly coloured vegetables, turf and surf, drinking summery drinks and standing close to the people that I love! That feast was a feast of major proportions, so colourful and delicious, and shared with such wonderful company. Oh my life, I am so lucky and so blessed to be surrounded by these things which surround me.
Later on, at the shack of a tavern at the end of the road on the outer edge of town- there's a band playing, nobody dancing except for me just swaying my hips a little bit, standing in the front. I see sitting at the table next to me a young man who has written a poem on a napkin. He won't let me read it, but he asks for my e-mail address. This afternoon, I awake to a poem in my inbox. Ted drove us home, and we kept company together, talking about the pain of a marriage ending after 24 years together, a stranger opening up his kind, wounded heart.
Today, I walked into an art gallery packed salon-style of paintings of trees, and now I might paint something to put into a show in two weeks. At the BVO I found a great pair of little black boots, for two dollars. I finally returned my pile of long-overdue library books, and Jane the librarian, bless her, knocked my fine down to ten dollars from eighteen! I picked up a loaf of cheddar sage bread, and an elk pepperette from the hundred mile market. Both are delicious.
Today, as a lot of days, I find myself thinking so loudly in my head about the universe and the wonderment of everything, and I feel so happy. And now I can finish Prodigal Summer guilt-free.
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