For several weeks Tal and I have enjoyed the practice of a general routine. Lots of days it collapses, but for most part the bed is getting made each day, the kitchen floor is cleared of dog hair, the incoming mail is handled before getting any farther into the house than the kitchen counter, Tal and the dogs (and sometimes I) walk the promenade when it’s time to close the gate for the day. All is not orderly by any means. There are, however, certain expectations for each day.
The most enjoyable one for me, so far, has been eating breakfast with Tal. This event can take place anytime from 6:30 to 10:00, but it happens every day. This morning I took a photograph of one of the things I see from my breakfast perch at the counter. Just up and a bit to the right. Isn’t it amazing?
Tal has a bed of amaryllis bulbs. Every fall he lifts a few of them, pots them up, lets them rest in a dark place. Then, we get to watch the progress of the green emerging from the crusty brown bulbs. This year he was a little late getting started, resulting in our enjoying the blooms not during Advent but during Lent.
In some way they have offered me reassurance during this first six weeks without the routine of working claiming so much of me and my time. When I eat breakfast under this fabulous cluster of blooms, I am calmed at my core.