Amazed by the bright, heavy blooms on the greenbelt, and the heavy, honeyed fragrance as I walked near. They were alive with honey bees - Bee Trees!
(I suppose after (3 years? four?) of use, my iPhone camera eye needs cleaning. But what an effect!)
We paid tribute and honor to George last week; also to Regina. Both musicians who died within days of each other, both in the same band once upon a time.
This week, stayed with friends in Woodland, and ate at Bangkok. Thai food, of course; mine a lemongrass and prawn salad. Spicy and cool. Took Ela for a walk, but had to use rope as a leash, since her real one was in a car with one of her pet parents at the time. But it was all good. She is a wonderfully trained dog to walk with; she sniffed at the lawns, and on the nature trail, the rabbit holes. She skipped a little, happy to be out in the breeze - which reminds me that we watched a crop duster at work, too, on the walk. I'd almost forgotten about that piece of farm life.
As well, during this just past week, I managed a difficult interview with some grace, humor, and sincerity. I should know more next week.
Today, my step-father, Tom, underwent his second open heart surgery. Ten years ago he had a quadruple bypass. The surgeon knew at the time that there was a problematic heart valve - today, they can do both procedures at the same time. But ten years ago, they couldn't.
So today, Tom's heart valve surgery was done. For 75 minutes, his heart was stopped, beating outside his body by machine, while the valve was replaced with pigskin. In just over 4 hours, the surgical team recovered years of life for Tom. With the severity of blockage, the surgeon said his heart was working as if it was trying to pump 75,000 gallons a day - it would have taken his life within a short time. But today, he's back to consciousness; aware, but tired. Many more tubes and bags and drains than for the bypass.
Amazing technology. All of it, including the surgical nurse using a cell phone to call the family on their cell to say, "Surgery began"; later to say, "The heart is back in place, and the surgeon is about to sew up the aeorta, then Tom's chest: Tom is doing very well." Wow.
So I find myself here, taking care of the house and pets. And of course, walking the greenbelt.
My mom's rescued kittens are now 3 months old, and always come forward purring and happy. The rescued Mamma Cat is back with them, playful and happy. They are a precious crew, saved from a miserable life and likely, a miserable death.
The old man cat, Stuffy, or the one I call "Busta Butt" due to his size, misses Tom. Stares at the bed, wondering: IS THAT TOM? Gets close; stares; shakes his head no, and leaves.
It's supposed to rain tomorrow and Sunday. The long, long overdue rain. I was yearning for that rain in October, November, December and January. Not so much now.
I have the laundry caught up; spot cleaned the carpet; vacuumed and dusted. A truly comfortable and beautiful space, one that seems far removed from the loud, busy world. A stocked fridge, right down to the actual heavy cream for my morning espresso. How lucky is THAT? (Would have been nice to have known about the hall sensor on the alarm system before I wandered in the hall afer having set the alarm, though.)
And so it is. Today. These many moments, gathered and lived today. At ease, grateful for cars, cell phones, and cardiology - and in the happy company of cats.