I find contentment in simple things. Mostly things you don’t have to pay for.
Nature, enjoyment of my pets, a new bloom in my pots on the patio, the sound of birdsong.
A Morning Breeze Brings Contentment:
This morning there was the slightest bit of a breeze that sent the wind chimes dancing.
Along with the sound of water flowing from the fountain in the background. A lovely combination of mellow music, and another simple joy.
A soft rain began to fall. It felt good tip-tapping on my shaved head.
I shave it every week or so because I like it that way. The freedom of it. The independence from having to fuss with my hair.
Growing up, and all my life, I tried so hard to fit in. To say the right things. And now I don’t feel the need for other people’s approval as I once did.
My Shaved Head Is My Independence From Judgment:
I suppose my shaved head has become a symbol of my independence from once feeling so timid and diminished.
To be perfectly honest I shaved it because of COVID and not going into hair salons. Now I love it.
It is my way of saying: “This is who I am. Like me or not. Judge me if you must. I no longer care.”
I walk around taking photos, as I always do. Another of my greatest joys in life.
Then I pause and gently lift the big velvety leaves of the wide swath of Lamb’s Ear. I pull out the dead leaves underneath.
Flashing Back To Childhood:
I sometimes flash back to when I was a child, as I did with the Lamb’s Ear. This was reminiscent of when I would go into the hen house. Where I’d lift the hens to gather the warm eggs underneath.
The hens would make little clucking sounds. They were letting me know they didn’t much like my intrusion into their dark shadowy little world.
Did you know that chickens growl?
Hens commonly make this noise when they’re sitting on eggs and someone disturbs them. It’s a warning sound and may be followed by an attack or a peck.
Back then, when I went back outside the henhouse I had to locate the big rooster before I could make a dash for the gate. Because that rooster would usually run at me and peck at my legs.
Talking To My Plants:
I talk to the plants and try to cajole them into blooming. To coddle them like I am the guardian and they are my children.
I have an abundance of little tomatoes. Sometimes I pop one in my mouth as I walk about the patio. They are so tasty as the juice squirts into my mouth.
The last two nights I’ve eaten chicken tacos with spring greens. Along with my fresh cherry tomatoes with a sprinkling of pepper jack cheese on top.
I like to add a little bowl of pinto beans to complete my meal.
Charlie sniffs about and sneezes. Dr. Poteet, the vet, talked on the phone last weekend and he has me giving him Zyrtec. I found the generic, much cheaper at Amazon and ordered that.
My allergies are terrible this year too. I usually don’t have this rough a time of it. Something in the air must be different this year.
I come inside and dole out Charlie’s morning meds and feed them.
As soon as Ivy hears me she comes into the kitchen and paces up and down. She is impatient until I take her bowl back to the bedroom. I must feed her up on a table so Charlie can’t get to it.
It’s far too rich for his delicate tummy.
Charlie snuffles up his egg and looks to me for his treat. His treats are actually soft little pockets I sneak his pills inside so he will swallow them.
Routine Is Important To Me:
And we go on with our morning routine.
Charlie is now asleep against my legs in the recliner. Ivy is snoozing on the couch.
The ceiling fans send the indoor wind chimes tinkling. I stare out the French doors at my plants on the patio. The view is so lovely and gives me such joy.
I am content.
With myself. With my little apartment.
I feel whole.