Where I am

at uncle's house the air smells green and damp, and the clouds roll in off the mountains and blanket the sky, soft and gray, before breaking apart above the valley. The lizards here somehow sing and chirp, like little hidden cricket-birds. The archways are tall and grand, the floors tiled and worn, the paint hangs in strips from the ceiling. Sometimes, you'll even find it in your food. Beautiful old antique vases and clocks, along with knockoffs, along with empty boxes and papers and containers and stacks of newspapers and old VHSs fill the rooms in piles on top of piles on top of piles. Uncle knows where everything is. Our washing machine starts (or stops) when you push the big, back lit, blue"Play/Pause" button. My clothes, for the first time in years, actually come out clean.

Every morning, I'm greeted by 17 excited little furry faces that just want love. And food. A Pomeranian's bark is soft, as if they all yelled too much last night and are hoarse today. When all 17 are barking it almost sounds like running water. They're small enough to pick up by the scruff, and when you do their legs go stick-straight, tails wagging, eyes half-closed, a look of bliss and contentment on their face. They love to be held, and immediately go limp in your arms. Or, they nuzzle in to your neck, or under your chin, as if they want to hide in you. They're lovely.

I wake up early, which is surprisingly easy for me lately. Without my alarm, I've been up by 6:50 most days. I stumble out to the lanai and feed the dogs and get love, and then make coffee. I'm actually eating breakfast, nowadays. By 8 the cool morning damp has evaporated, and that's when I'm thankful for Uncle's dark, cavernous house.

I don't have internet as much, but I do have a t.v., and I sit and crochet and watch Golden Girls and feel like I'm about 85 years old. I'm considering reading before bed again--I used to love that. I've lost that frantic feeling I've had for years now, and finally feel my days unfolding with me again. If that makes sense.

And, for as up in the air as I am, this is where I'm supposed to be. And I'm going to love it while I have it.