The rain is a deluge. Poor Henry went out then turned around and came right back inside. His fur was soaked in that short time. Last night the wind blew. It rattled the windows and shook branches. Limbs swayed. This morning I was surprised how warm it was when I dashed to get the papers. The temperature is in the 50’s, but tonight, it will drop to the teens. All that water will turn to ice.
Nothing much is happening. I liken January to the doldrums. I could go out as I do need a couple of things, but I’ll manage. I have a few avocados and a half bag of chips, snack treasures. I have chocolate chips and caramel chips, eggs, flour and sugar. All I need is energy.
Life continues to amaze me, especially its simplest moments, those times of simple pleasures: freshly brewed morning coffee, the smell of sheets dried in the sun, funny movies and buttered popcorn with just a touch of salt, warm slippers on a winter’s day, an afternoon nap on the couch, a hot shower after a tiring day and brownies, any kind of brownies, as long as they’re chocolate. The rain sustains me, not the lightning bolts.
I haven’t made my chicken Curry in a long while. It’s time. I think curry with its bit of heat is the perfect winter dinner. I can remember the last time I ate curry. Actually, I still remember the first time. I filled my fork and tentatively took my first bite. I could have done a happy dance. I tasted the heat of the curry, watermelon and peanuts, coconut and bananas.
My life has had momentous events, life altering events, but I’ve learned it is the little pieces gathered together in my memory drawers which give life meaning and depth, which make it whole.