Paradise, with Thorns

 

Every now and then, a melancholy demon finds its way to my shoulder.  I look around my messy house, usually after I have spent a morning searching for something I know is in this place somewhere, or after the dogs have come back half covered with mud and burrs and I think about all the work that needs to be done on this farm.  The great thing about a big rambling farmhouse is that you have lots of room.  The terrible thing about my big rambling farmhouse is that I never know where anything is.  I still have a room filled with boxes of things I haven’t made a place for yet, in spite of being in this house for two years now.  I have two other rooms I haven’t “got to” yet, which is one of the reasons I have that other room still full of stuff I haven’t made a place for yet.  I also have a character flaw in that I do not put things back where they belong, or if I do put them back where they belong, I forget where that was.  Occasionally I am astonished when I search for some item all over the house and then find it right where it should be.  I spent two days looking for my fall wreath only to find it in a plastic bag, with the other fall decorations, right where it made sense for it to be.

Usually, I turn on the music and sit in the porch swing when the doom and gloom hits.  One mid-morning last week I was engaged in a pity party when my friend Clay arrived.  He barely got seated on the porch before I was reciting my list of reasons to be depressed.  As usual, he took out his invisible violin and pantomimed a sad song.  “You have a sad life,” he said before spreading his arms out to indicate the surroundings.  “Look where you are!” 

I was reminded of that conversation again this morning as I stepped out into the early morning to call the dogs and turn the horses out.  Last night I walked under an almost full moon with no sound of traffic or sirens to wait for the dogs to finish their last minutes duties.  I woke up to a golden sunrise and the smiling face of Sophie, waiting beside my bed for her morning hugs.  The last couple of weeks have been filled with those perfect days that usually occur in October – bright blue skies, fresh breezes, and trees of red and gold.  Gratitude fills my heart when I look around.  I have an embarrassment of riches, even with the thorns and burrs, the broken fences, and the chaos in my house.

Next month we will celebrate Thanksgiving.  My house will be filled with people and we will gather around a crowded table to laugh and remember.  The dogs will be uncontrollable, the food will be bountiful, and we will commune with those we love, not only in this world but in the unseen world.  It’s a good way to begin the final prelude to winter – a memory to keep us warm when the cold rains fall and the snow flies.