Chicken Soup
I am full of good chicken soup from my friend Kay, to which I added a handful of rice. Mind you, it doesn't take much to make me full just now. I am glad I'm able to keep some food down, still don't have a huge appetite.
Enjoying again my pretty, peaceful back yard, and breathing in the fresh air. Glad I am able to breathe freely at this moment.
The trees over the fence take my eye upward to the clear blue. Although it has always been good to have someone to share such things with, I savour them in my own right.
I am sitting on one of two outdoor chairs with a low coffee table in front of them. I can't recall us ever sitting here together. If we did, it was so seldom as not to matter. We more often sat on the tiny front porch where we can get the sun. If we were both there at once, it'd be him on the only chair we could fit there, and me on the top step - and as like as not, one or both cats on the lower steps.
I think back to lying in bed together at Pinnacle Road, watching through the huge windows as eagles cruised on the thermals above the deep valley, with a backdrop of the Border Ranges. And later at North Tumbulgum, a different kind of beauty, our bedroom looking out over undulating paddocks, trees and a dam.
It has been a great adventure we've shared, this marriage. I realise it has been the marriage I really always wanted - not fairytale 'happy ever after', but the adventure of growing together, learning to love ever more deeply and truly. I always envisaged marriage as being that. It didn't quite work out that way with the other two, but it was third-time-lucky indeed.
Because we are now embarking on a major change in the practical details of our lives as a couple, I am taking stock - as if it were ending. And indeed, the end is foreshadowed, but I hope we are given many happy times yet.
I am also coming to terms with how it must be from now on, reminding myself I can still love my life, with good reason.
Enjoying again my pretty, peaceful back yard, and breathing in the fresh air. Glad I am able to breathe freely at this moment.
The trees over the fence take my eye upward to the clear blue. Although it has always been good to have someone to share such things with, I savour them in my own right.
I am sitting on one of two outdoor chairs with a low coffee table in front of them. I can't recall us ever sitting here together. If we did, it was so seldom as not to matter. We more often sat on the tiny front porch where we can get the sun. If we were both there at once, it'd be him on the only chair we could fit there, and me on the top step - and as like as not, one or both cats on the lower steps.
I think back to lying in bed together at Pinnacle Road, watching through the huge windows as eagles cruised on the thermals above the deep valley, with a backdrop of the Border Ranges. And later at North Tumbulgum, a different kind of beauty, our bedroom looking out over undulating paddocks, trees and a dam.
It has been a great adventure we've shared, this marriage. I realise it has been the marriage I really always wanted - not fairytale 'happy ever after', but the adventure of growing together, learning to love ever more deeply and truly. I always envisaged marriage as being that. It didn't quite work out that way with the other two, but it was third-time-lucky indeed.
Because we are now embarking on a major change in the practical details of our lives as a couple, I am taking stock - as if it were ending. And indeed, the end is foreshadowed, but I hope we are given many happy times yet.
I am also coming to terms with how it must be from now on, reminding myself I can still love my life, with good reason.