Archive for August 2015

Making Ourselves At Home

August 30, 2015

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It’s been two weeks since Toby and I landed in our new life, and one week since Minou became part of our family. We’ve all been getting used to each other, and to our little house, and small yard. It’s a big adjustment for Toby, whose home on the island was three times the size of our house here, and who roamed freely over a wide territory, within heart-stopping range of coyotes, eagles, owls, and cars. Here we have way more cars, but so far he hasn’t gone out of the tightly-fenced yard, and I’m hoping that he never does.

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It’s been so hot, right up until today, that Minou had no compunction about putting his little tongue right into my ever-present  glass of ice water. There’s often a glass of rosé near that water, but neither cat shows any inclination to follow me in my wine-loving ways. It’s been over 90° most every day, so that we were all languid and ruffled, and inclined to lounge about. Me, though, I’ve been so busy with school that the kitties have been alone together for a good part of every day, while I kept my fingers crossed on their behalf.

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But today it finally cooled off, and we even had a little rain, just enough to knock the smoke out of the sky, at least for now, and let us see some blue for the first time in two weeks. Toby, who has never lived with trees, being a beach cat, has begun to think about climbing.

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And although strange cats have had the habit of running through our yard, and Toby is a gentle cat who never fights, he’s beginning to take ownership of the place. Since it was even cool enough today to have some doors and windows open, I decided to let Minou go outside for the first time, which he did without fear. I’m not teaching him about the cat door yet, but he’s quite smart, and will soon see how Toby uses it. But for now, I want to be sure I’m here when he goes out. So he did go out and come in several times between lunch and dinner, and later, when I heard a suspicious post-prandial  silence, I wondered whether I’d accidentally left the door open for him.

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But no, the two of them had decided to snuggle up on the sofa together for an after-dinner nap. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me, to think that they’ve become friends already. The sort of friends who curl up together after dinner, in their new home, content to not even be in the same room with me, just to be together. Because I’m heading into a fantastically busy week, in which I either will or will not pass my forklift operator test (not at all a sure thing) and there are tons of grapes coming in so I’ll be on the crush pad whenever I’m not on the forklift, and maybe on the bottling line as well, and then in the tasting room. At home in my new life, but away from home many hours a day. I’m so glad that Toby and Minou have found a home in each other, and I plan to share their coziness whenever I can.

But in the meantime, I have got to master that damned forklift!

A Gentle Soul

August 23, 2015

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Last night, for the first time in 16 months, I dreamed of Shel’s death. It wasn’t his actual death, in that inscrutable way of dreams, but another death. What I dreamed was that moment of leaving, that stark knowing that I’d never see him again. Perhaps I whimpered in my sleep, I don’t know.

What I do know is that this sweet three pounds of feathery fluff, who’s only lived with us for two days and hasn’t yet revealed his name, came to me at that moment, climbed onto my chest, just over my heart, and settled in to purr. And when I opened my eyes to look at him, tears that I hadn’t know were there slid slowly down my cheeks, and he patted my face very gently.

It’s a week now since I left my old life, my Shel life. I’ve worked on the crush pad, driven two forklifts, worked in the tasting room. Today I’m going to meet some new people and play boules. I’m well and truly gone from the world Shel and I shared, which in a way is like having him die all over again. I hadn’t expected this grief, because this is the new life I spun for myself out of the merest wisps of hope, the life I chose, the life that seems to be the very best life I can live at this moment. But still, in starting over I left him behind, in a profound way that still fills my eyes to overflowing.

And now I have a kitten who might read my heart. I love Toby, but he’s not an empathetic cat, doesn’t notice how I’m feeling. It’s one of the hardest things, to lose the one who always knows how you feel. Of course, a kitten and a husband are not the same thing, but maybe, just maybe, now I have someone to pat my cheek if I whimper in the night.

Up, Up, And Away

August 14, 2015

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Wow, here I go. All that planning, talking the talk, telling my story, it’s boiling down to the hairy here and now. Often, in sorting, packing, schlepping, cursing, despairing of ever getting all my stuff to the other side of the state by Sunday, I feel like I’m circling the drain. But a friend gave me this card, saying it reminded her of me, and yes indeedy, if I get my head up out of the dust and bubble wrap, it does remind me of myself.

Sunday I’ll drive, with Annie’s splendid help, over Snoqualmie Pass, across the high desert, down along the Columbia River, then cross the Snake River and head into the golden wheat fields and lush vineyards surrounding Walla Walla. Monday we’ll unload the truck. Tuesday I have my first class: Forklift Operator Training. And I just got an email that the first grapes will be picked and processed on Tuesday as well, earlier than ever before, and that I should arrive at College Cellars in closed toe, waterproof shoes, and be prepared to get sticky. Ok, now I know I’m not in Kansas anymore.

Untethered, heading away from home, getting closer to the sun but prepared for weather, kicking up my heels, trusting myself to the updraft, eyes on the prize, that’s me. Or as close to me as a little girl in a slip of a dress, crossing the wide, blue skies can ever be.