recognizing joy

Everyone has heard of the saying that you have to travel with someone to understand their sometimes well hidden shortcomings. Maybe. But travel also reveals a person's superpowers. You really start to see where your travel companion shines. Looking back on the trip, I really appreciate how much each of my fellow travelers brought to the table. It shouldn't come as a surprise. I love my family, I think they're all fantastic people. And yet, during our great adventure together they rose to the challenge with extraordinary depth, wisdom, trust, and yes -- joy. The older kids looked after the little ones. It's not by chance, nor by anyone's request that we have so many photos of them all walking together holding hands. That was their initiative. And the littles? The distances they covered! Little Juniper and young Sandpiper never lost their enthusiasm for keeping up, for going this way or that, for meals together, for embracing this mind boggling adventure as if it was no great imposition. They ran up the 3 flights of stairs (in my old apartment house) along with the big kids. They did everything along with the big kids. 

And the grownups? For one thing, they accepted my plan for the trip and deemed every day to be important and they shared that message with their young ones, so that everyone walked the streets of Warsaw (or rural roads of Gniazdowo) with their eyes and hearts wide open. And the joy -- so much joy! Dinners were long because the funny stories were never-ending. It's as if we were all young again, not yet worried about jobs and kids and schools and the twists and turns of daily life. I see my kids, my grandkids, in their happy spaces back home, but during the trip, everyone -- young and old -- was so exuberant! Six days of exuberance -- that's what I'll remember about our trip to Poland.

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My cold is improving, but as always, it's taking its time. But it is this slight congestion that makes me happy as a clam right now: being home means that there is a tissue box ready and waiting when I need a tissue. I dont have to fill my pockets with clean and then not so clean tissues in the course of the day. Such luxury: pull out, blow, toss, done. Makes me smile, really it does.

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Leaving Europe so early yesterday and making my tight connections meant that I came back to Sally's House at an unusually early hour: before 3 pm. (Usually it's early or late evening.) This means I am already unpacked and have done two loads of laundry. I ordered groceries and they were delivered. And I did the budget for the trip. With all the expenses piling on this month (a trip of a lifetime, the garden, the move), I need to be cautious and monitor the flow and allocation of savings. I attended to that yesterday.

This morning I just want to do a few things that are tough to do with Millie at home: mow the lawn. Plant (yes, still more!) a couple of replacement lilies at Steffi's House Clean out the garage and get it ready for moving boxes, dump cardboard at the recycling place -- that kind of stuff.

But first comes breakfast. I try to flip my meal a little: yogurt on the bottom, then granola and fruit. I can't say that it made much difference (in terms of taste), but it made me feel I was still one foot in the Nordic countries.

It's a beautiful day -- not hot yet. That comes next week. I appreciate the large porch here -- so convenient for breakfast! What will I do at Steffi's House? Take my morning coffee to the front porch? Or maybe the side yard? Exciting to imagine how I might start the day there.

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I go to the farmette to pick up some more dirt. Some replacement plants came last week (and more will arrive next week) and I want to put them in as soon as possible. As I get out of the car, I am hit with a swarm of mosquitoes. I have to say, I think they're made worse by my absence. The garden is looking terribly overgrown. All those rains last week really created a jungle out there. Should I help Ed clear it some? But didn't I move out deliberately so that this wouldn't be my chore, my problem? And yet, I feel some responsibility for the place. Sigh...

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I pick up Millie. Yes, she is happy to see me. Yes, she jumps all over me and once home, follows me everywhere. she looks taller and leaner!

 

 

 

And I sense her puzzlement. She has that tentative stance, that "what just happened here" demeanor. She loved me, then she loved Julie. Her substitute caregiver took her everywhere with her -- to work at Happy Dogz. On a camping trip with her friends. On a hike in the state park. To bed with her at night. I'm sure Millie adjusted to the idea that Julie's house was her new home. 

And yet, although my pup adjusted well, Julie tells me that Millie has an ingrained hesitancy to anyone who is not her number one human. She is unsure around those who do not fit into her everyday. Not that she does much about it. She merely sidesteps them, just in case they're going to pounce on her and eat her up. 

(sweet, sweet girl!)

 

 

Right now, I am taking one day at a time with her. She'll necessarily spend a bit of time at doggie day care because of the impending move. In many ways that is her constant. She has known the people there from her first week with me. And how will she take to her new home? Probably just fine, given that she already knows the gardens there. Nonetheless, this cautious girl will do best, I'm sure, once we have settled down to something resembling permanence. Millie loves routine. She'll have plenty of it. Just not this month!

with so much love...