Breakfast. Sunshine. Lovely sunshine.
I am on rosie this morning. Riding her to work with the utmost care. Keeping good distance, using signal lights appropriately. As I am just coming out of John Nolen Drive (a stretch of road that hugs the lake leading into the city), an SUV passes me to the right. The driver rolls down her window and screams something at me. It may have been something like "turkey, you damn turkey!" It felt hostile. I have no idea what it is that she really said, but it felt accusatory.
This, after a rather wonderful country ride, in cold but not too cold weather, a ride that was both calming and not even excessively chilly, as the morning temperatures hovered around 35.
That kind of a morning low means that we are to have afternoon highs that will put a dent in the remaining snow (turkeys? Yes, I certainly passed turkeys, of the wild sort, on my ride in).
All this morning stuff on the road notwithstanding, I feel that today was a turning point. When bad things happen, you expect a certain progression of events: discovery, grieving, recovery. What you do not anticipate is that things may get complicated. That the world will not stand still while you cope with your issues. That your health may slide, your work may pose challenges, yet another wrench will be thrown at your peaceful existence.
It feels so good to be, at last, out of the thicket of problems. It's true that I have not yet fully dealt with my father's death. I have not yet traveled to Poland -- a trip that I have to accomplish sometime in the near future. I also have not finished following the trail of possible nightmarish scenarios that may happen as a result of identity theft. But I've gone through a whole day where the only disturbance was the SUV lady screaming at me on the way to work.
I have to say, given my last ten days or so, today felt like a very beautiful set of hours indeed. And it was 55 outside and there was sunshine and a promise of even better, warmer days.
Who could ask for more.
