Misty Backyard

Last night, at dusk, before dinner I decided to mow our grass. 

All week nothing but rain, rain, rain. In fact it's raining now. Our backyard was beginning to look like an Iowa prairie. I was starting to imagine American buffalo's roaming our almost one acre backyard if the grass got any longer. In fact I think I saw some prairie dogs scouting our backyard for a new home.

I love mowing grass. Before Bill's strokes that was always his job. He didn't like it so much, it was more of a job to him than a stress reliever that it is to me. 

I had just put Bill to bed (he goes to bed around 6 PM). This was my quiet time which I treasure every day. It wasn't raining but the grass was still wet but I decided to mow anyway. Also, there was no wind blowing which is usually the situation when I mow grass on a sunny day. All that "stuff" blowing in my eyes. I wear goggles but the goggles dig into my skin. Last night I just wanted to sit on our John Deere zero degree turn tractor and ride. Smelling the cut grass and the chirping of our resident birds preparing for their evening respite.

I'm pretty well resigned to being here for the next several years. It's been two years now since Pat and I traveled to our favorite destinations of Palm Springs, California; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; and of course Pat's home town of Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. 

Oh how I miss our quarterly trips. I have American Airline credits of over $1,500 for missed trips because of COVID then Bill's health. I'll probably lose that money. I'm not going to get upset over it. Can't do much about it.  These days I'm just not going to stress out over things I can't or have little possibility of changing. 

I would love to go back to my part-time job at the hotel. I loved that job. It was the best kind of job; getting paid for something I like to do. I have no idea when and if I could go back to that job. Bill could live another five years or more. This September will be his 94th birthday. Our friend Bart lived until he was 97 years old. He died as he preferred, in his favorite chair. His neighbor checked in on him in the morning and Bart was in his chair. That afternoon his neighbor checked in on him again and noticed that Bart hadn't moved. He was dead. That folks is the way I want to go and Bill has said that's the way he wants to go. But for now he's stabilized and he take each day at a time. 

I treasure those times like last night when I mowed our backyard in the quiet of our wonderful neighborhood. 

Of all the places we have lived, this is the quietest place ever. And for that I am so thankful. At this time of my life I value serenity and quiet. And I especially value our wonderful expanse of green in our backyard. Been my dream my whole life folks. To have a little bit of earth that I could call my own.

Have a great day!

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