Long Easy Mornings

72/365

After a cluster-fuck of a week, the kind that leaves you wondering which way is up, I needed this morning.

With no alarm, we were awake at 5:30. Even the dogs were up, moving from one side of the bed to the other, seeing which of us would make our move—pulling back the covers, feet to floor—first. The morning was warm. It had rained for two days, but this morning you could feel the sun coming. 

Stacey got dressed for a run while I packed up my camera gear. I was anxious to test a new lens and filter in the morning sun. As jogged away with Charlotte, left out of the driveway, another left down Parsonage Rd, I jumped into the truck with Espresso, shifting into four-wheel drive to negotiate the mud, an early-spring right of passage. 

Espresso and I arrived to an empty beach and a tide rolling up the mouth of the Royal River. Birds scatter, taking flight or leaving the shallow rips for deeper, safer water. We sat quietly amongst the rocks, seaweed and puddles, all gleaming in the sunlight. The birds slowly returned, adjusting to our presence.

I sat watched nothing in particular. I was quite, thinking about nothing specific. Moments like these resynchronize me with life. They're a way of refocusing. Cleansing. 

My world has slowed again. I needed this morning.

Bonus Photos. No. 1 and No. 2.

Into The Fog

71/365

I tend to be anxious amongst change.  Jobs, relationships, homes, they've come and gone. When it's time to move on, you know. It's the new beginnings that make me anxious. But what am I so worried about? The ends? You'd think I'd be used to them by now. 

I knew it was time to leave my old carpentry job. I didn't care anymore. I still took pride in my work, but I didn't take pride in my job. In the end, walking away was easy. "Do you have anything to say?" said the firer to the firee with a smirk, seemingly looking for a fight after handing me my last check. I, however, had no need to further justify my decisions. "Thank you for all the work," I said.

I sent a text saying I had been fired at 8:10 a.m. I received a text the next day at 3:36 p.m. saying a check, the one to buy the materials to start my next carpentry project, was in the mail. That's 31 hours and 26 minutes, probably a few seconds too, between losing the promise of one paycheck and regaining the certainty of another. 

I was never that worried. 

Now I am. And I need to get over it..

The path I am currently on will have obstacles, it might even end, but I've always managed to move onward. 

A few more pictures I liked today: This Old Dam and The Crossing Guard.

Sweet Horses

70/365

The horses, Gizmo and Netty, helped make my day. Gray, slushy, muddy and drizzling, not insurmountable weather, but not prime weather to make your Birthday great. 

I strolled outside late in the morning to say "Hi" to the pair. After jumping the fence into the field, I started tapping my leg and talking to Gizmo. He was skeptical, as always, but let me approach and pet the side of his face before turning his head away. Before long he relaxed as we chatted and Netty came walking over to say "Hello" too. 

Gizmo took to sniffing and licking my hand while Netty had put her head on my shoulder, smelling my hair. I'd take out my phone to check the time, or to text Stacey to tell her how sweet her horses were being, and both would perk up with curiosity. One would sniff the phone while the other nudged it with its nose or licked it as Gizzy did on one occasion. If I put my hand back in my pocket, Giz would nudge my ribs or my hip until I took it back out. Netty would wiggle her nose and lips on my back. 

Gizmo can be a brat. He'll chase Netty away from the hay feeder and otherwise just be ornery—like me sometimes. Today he was a sweetheart, even to Netty, playfully moving his lips on her neck when I would step away. 

It's like they knew it was my birthday. 

More Pictures.

Grilled Cheese

Yesterday morning I woke up, 29-years old, and got ready for work. This morning I woke up, 30. I sat on the couch updated my blog. My boss gave me the day off. Make that my former boss. He gave me everyday hereafter off too.

29 years 364 days old. Fired for the first time.

I was set to give my two weeks notice on Friday—heading back to Madison after all. Now I get a little quasi-mini-not-so two week vacation.

Being fired feels weird, but fortunately I am not in a position to be ashamed. I am not going to air the dirty laundry here, but know this: I can walk away holding my head high. I worked hard and handled things the ways I thought were best. I'll learn from the experience. What else can you do?

As Forest Gump said, "That's all I have to say about that."

Onward?

By the end of the day, I had lined up—planned, estimated and wrote up the proposal—a carpentry project that would more than compensate for not having a real job over the next two weeks. I will hopefully be doing a project that a friend needs done, while working alongside another friend. It's good to have friends.

Onward.

How great is grilled cheese? You have a crazy day, 6 p.m. rolls onto the clock and you have no idea what's for dinner. But you're hungry. Bread, check, butter, check, cheese check. Add a can of soup and you have dinner. Add popcorn is its gourmet. Yesterday was a grilled cheese day. Dinner was great.

Dark Day or Bright Night?

67/365

Okay, so the stars give it away.