Mockingbird Hill Cottage

This has been quite the week. One more story to add: I had a nightmare last night that was so vivid and real, down to every detail, that I’m still having trouble shaking it off and it’s 9:30 am. I never went back to sleep except to doze for a few minutes. What was it about? Don asked me for a divorce. It came out of nowhere, no warning. He just said he wanted to move on. There were more details which, thankfully, are now hazy. When I woke up from the nightmare, I had no idea what was real and what wasn’t. I finally got up to go in the bathroom and then returned to bed, still shaken. I would never wake Don up as a rule, but he got up as well, so I told him about it when he came back to bed.

I am incapable of conveying to you how shaken I was, and am, from that dream. Eventually, it will fade. I know my husband is not about to ask me for a divorce – truly. But, sometimes, I am shaken to my core by how much I love and need him. It scares me at times. I’m sure some of this has to do with getting older, feeling more vulnerable, and this strange and unsettling – to put it mildly – time we’re living in.

We had a good talk this morning during our second cup of coffee. I have to take a break from the news. I have to stop raging about those things I can’t control – except at the ballot box. I have to revert back to what I was doing a few months back; no news, no Twitter, only music, books, gardening, cuddles with my husband, Frasier, old movies, miniatures, more books, and the occasional sugar-free chocolate.

We also had to deal with a hurricane and the loss of a beloved tree this week, so yours truly is well and truly over it. By the way, the arborist called yesterday and talked about what he would like to do. He charges a daily rate and, in addition to cleaning up the fallen tree, there are a couple of dead ash trees he’d like to take down and he’d also like to prune the big maple by the porch (it needs it) and the catalpa. I was dreading the price quote but it was actually less than we had anticipated. Still a lot of money, but we’re grateful it isn’t more. So that’s good news. They’ll probably come sometime next week. Pruning those trees should have been done a while ago, so now we’re being forced to do it and that’s a good thing. Also, I’ve been eyeing those ash trees and have been worried about them. All ash trees around here have fallen prey to the emerald ash borer and over the course of the almost-15 years we have lived here, they’ve all succumbed.

I finished Melmoth yesterday –  it’s simply stunning and powerful and, through its storytelling, a clarion call to arms concerning our morality and the need to take action, as well as redemption. Sarah Perry is brilliant. I’ve only just started Hamnet. Don ordered the new book by Isabel Wilkerson; Caste. And he ordered it through our favorite local bookstore, Oblong Books. That should be arriving today. He devoured her first book (and winner of the Pulitzer Prize,) The Warmth of Other Suns; The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration,  so when I saw that Caste  had just been published this past Tuesday, I told him about it.

The Michael Connelly that I ordered from The Mysterious Bookshop arrived in yesterday’s mail. I going to tackle Hamnet  first because it’s been here longer.

It’s going to rain today. I won’t have to water the gardens, just the porch plants. More good news!

Stay safe.

Happy Friday.

Don and I are tired out. Don, of course, is even more tired than me because of Lyme. I spent a couple of hours cleaning up the yard (except for the downed tree, of course.) There were torn branches, downed branches, bushes that were hanging by a thread – everywhere. I had my loppers and a small saw with me and did what I could to clean up low hanging branches and all the debris that was scattered everywhere. The coleus that was planted in my vintage pots was broken in some places. Most everything looks a little tattered.

Such destruction with one huge gust of wind.

Then the arborist stopped by without even telling us he was coming. He didn’t have on a mask, but he kept well away from us as we stayed on the porch.  Not only did he examine the tree, he looked at all the trees surrounding the house. I know that the big maple by the porch needs pruning. And I’m sure others do, too. I’m dreading the estimate, but nothing is going to happen right away, anyway, as he has to take care of people who have trees blocking their driveways or, even worse, that have landed on their houses.

There was a huge amount of damage from the hurricane and there are many who still don’t have power.

Today, we’re laying low. It’s been a surreal couple of days and I can see it taking a toll on Don. He’s been through a lot lately.

This morning, – for a split second – I thought it was August 15th. Why? This – everything, the pandemic, the insanity in DC, Don’s illness, the hurricane, self-isolating – has left my brain in a muddle and no amount of coffee seems to be cutting through the fog.

It will get better, I know.

I’m quite enjoying Melmoth. I should finish it today. Then, I think, I’ll move on to Hamnet, unless the Michael Connelly arrives in today’s mail. If that happens, I just may move onto Connelly first because he is always a guaranteed pleasure to read and a wonderful escape.

That’s all I have energy for today, my friends.

Stay safe.

Happy Thursday.

 

 

If you follow me on Instagram, you already know this. We are mourning the loss of fully half of the huge maple tree that is right between the house and the corral. It happened in the late afternoon, when what we thought was the worst of the storm had left and winds kicked up.

They were some of the scariest winds I’ve ever experienced and even though they were only around for an hour or two, they did a lot of damage, the worst being the tree.

This was a huge tree and the limbs extend far beyond what you see in this picture. We are feeling numb this morning, trying to come to terms with this loss. There was a wind gust that was unlike anything we’ve ever seen, except for the microburst of a few years back, and I heard things falling on the porch (because I was in the den) and Don heard a crack from the back of the house. It wasn’t until we felt safe enough to go outside and look that we saw what had happened. The other half of the tree is still standing but we want to have an expert look at it to see if it’s secure. It also fell into another tree, so we have to examine that.

This will have to be removed professionally and that will cost money. We’ve already put in a call to a local company. There was apparently a lot of damage around here and our friends who live closer to the town center lost power. The positives – We never lost power. It didn’t hit the house (and it’s right next to the secret garden and could have slammed into the kitchen). We’re okay. Although I would have willingly traded losing power for the tree.

We went out and hugged the tree and told it how sorry we are that this happened. Some may shake their heads at that, but I know – and scientists know – that trees communicate with each other, that they feel things. It’s heartbreaking.

There’s also a lot of damage in the woods.

The last time I said this someone criticized me in a comment, but I will say it again: 2020 has been horrible. I believe I used the word ‘sucks’ last time, and I still maintain that. Yes, there are good things here and there and I always acknowledge them. I also express gratitude daily. But that doesn’t mean I’m Pollyanna. I’m not. This year has been terrible. We just found out a friend of ours is suffering from COVID. Don has Lyme. Over 155,000 people have died from the coronavirus. Our country is in a freefall. Corruption is rampant. We have no one leading us through this pandemic. On a personal level, we are both out of work and will be for many more months. We have no income coming in other than the basics and the basics don’t cover everything. I worry about money constantly and I also constantly work on trusting that all will be provided. But it’s a battle. Both Don and I practice gratitude; privately through meditation and prayer, publicly on this blog, and in our daily talks with each other.

And it’s all relative. There are people suffering far more than Don and me. Far more.

Nevertheless, this is our reality and that’s where we live.

Anyway, I have to get out there and do some cleanup.

Stay safe.

Happy Wednesday.