Thursday, March 27, 2008

Sitting in the Back Yard with Wine

The evenings are becoming so beautiful in the Phoenix, Arizona area. Construction on the light rail is taking a break, rush hour traffic has ended, most of my neighbors are inside making their kids work on homework, and my dogs listen to the “evening news.” I have the sprinkler going. I’m starting to get the ground ready to dig the huge hole I’ll need to put my 3 fig trees in.

I’m also getting my personal ground ready for the rest of my life. For some reason, today I feel optimistic. I was on the internet looking at rental townhomes and condos. Rent isn’t nearly as bad as I thought. Most accept small dogs and cats. And looking at the floor plans and photos made me feel spring-like inside at the thought of starting fresh and new.

I’ve been yo-yoing emotionally for several weeks now. Plus, I’m slowly trying to prepare my mother for the divorce. She tells of what she went through with Dad in his later years and tells me to hang in there. She doesn’t know but a fraction of what is going on and she wouldn’t want to. She’s the type that if it isn’t in the Bible or on Fox News, then it doesn’t exist. Fine.

Anyway, the sky to the west is a faded peach and the sky to the east is a medium indigo. Barking from a little dog down the block blends with the whooshing of the water pipes feeding the sprinkler. A jet rumbles on its departure from Sky Harbor. Peace settles in my chest and I know it is fleeting, but I savor the sensation.

Good evening, Arizona.