A friend visited from the Eastern side of the country the other day and we took her to The Farmer and The Cook for dinner, an annual sojourn she has now taken three years in a row. She came back to the house for chocolate (which she had also brought with her) and tea (Ojai’s Magic Hour Tea) and we sat on the couches and talked for hours interspersed with random affection sessions with the pack.
Zoey is a gentle kisser, she’ll get up on the couch next to you and give you sweet soft kisses on your face if you’ll let her. She’s not too pushy with her love. Sookie, on the other hand, will put all of her ninety pounds on top of you and instruct you to receive her love. She is a full-on hugger, placing her paws on your shoulders, pulling you in, and kissing your face off for as long as you’ll let her.
Teddy, well, he needs time to warm. He is the most velcro with Jon and me, demanding affection from us in a way the girls do not, pawing at us when we forget to pet him, and constantly stepping on my clothes until satisfied when he then turns around and plunks himself down with a big sigh.
With other people, however, he’s shy and skittish, needing a lot of coaxing and treat-giving before making an approach. When he came to us six years ago he was terrified of every human he encountered. With our friend, the other night, we observed him do something he's never done before. He fell asleep snuggled up on the couch next to her, his head leaning on her leg, gently snoring and dreaming.
To see this first after so many years with him now was pure magic.
I have never expected him to heal, change, or do things "better". I have only always accepted him as he is in the moment while supporting his safety with love and holding the door open for him to go farther if he wishes.
One of my biggest concerns about this move has been the happiness and health of the doggies. Twice now, people have said to us, “Please don’t be offended by this, but I am just as excited to spend time with the dogs as I am to get to spend time with you.” This is exactly the balm I needed, and these people have upleveled in my estimation.
Our visiting friend sent us a gift certificate for The Farmer and The Cook after she left, and yesterday we treated ourselves to our favorite Ojai breakfast of Huevos Rancheros. Olivia Chase, the cook of the duo who owns the place stopped by our table bringing us her warmth and love. As she asked how we were doing, I found myself welling up. We don’t have many Sunday breakfasts here to go, and the idea that we can’t just wander down to their magical spot on a whim any day we like is not one I have yet come to terms with.
We do get to take some of their magic with us. After many years of people asking, Olivia wrote a cookbook and included all of the favorites from their kitchen. I am looking forward to using it and sharing the love with our friends in Chicago.
A magic and a flow is happening here in the events unfolding ahead of us. We are excitedly along for the ride, and yet, we are conflicted to be leaving this home we have created. Piece by piece we are dismantling it. The side yards are almost clear and the front yard has just some odds and ends to give away/dispose of. There’s a pile of tomato cages and buckets and grow bags and pots in front of our house, free for anyone to help themselves to. We took advantage of the New Moon energy and did a big garden clearout. I’m also blaming the Pisces Moon for the tears that are so readily at the surface right now.
We are probably going to need to pay someone to haul away some things. Turns out that our new neighbor does this for a living and he happened to have someone there buying his old washer and dryer who came over and gave us a price on our pair. The things I have been worrying about are solving themselves right before my eyes.
“That was a lot easier than I thought it would be,” Jon just shouted from outside referring to a chore he had just completed.
Our move is starting to take shape with dates settled on and a mover almost booked. We’ve been debating between just having what we’re moving sent directly to Chicago or storing it for a bit to keep things open. This decision has yet to be made, and I guess we’re waiting for the signs/nudges/affirmations.
The other day I remembered to ask The Faeries for help. They are excellent with lightening the heavier loads or any size load, to be honest. So perhaps they will tell us what to do with our belongings.
How are you? Please drop me a comment below and let me know.
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LOVE hearing your summation of the furry kids personalities when it comes to human connection. Today I was working on my book. I am "illustrating" the 136 letters we found, written by Georgia O'Keeffe to her filmmaker friend Henwar. The letters span 1929 to 1947. Today worked on the one from May 1940, from NYC. This is one of the least poetic letters however touches me. Here it is:
Henwar !
It has been grey and rainy here for a week ~
I hope the sun is shinning on you.
And that you are getting some thing you like
I am still here ~~ the war seems so stupefying ~ along with Alfred seeming a bit shaky
I have not moved.
I’ve gone to the country quite often ~ that is all. ~ Ive even gone out in the rain this week.
Went to the fair one day in the rain too ~
But everything seems like a strange dream ~
I suppose that is because my idea of reality has always been a bit odd ~
I think so often of you ~ and what you are doing
G.
Any spelling or grammar quirks are hers. Anyway, this letter reminded me of you, of your post today. Her husband, Alfred is weak after having a heart attack(s). She has a painting at the NY State pavilion at 1939/40 World's Fair, (The first woman artist to have a painting at any pavilion). Things are wonky yet okay. That's how I'm feeling too. For no reason specific to MY life, I feel as if something is like a strange dream. Even when I'm at my desk, I see out the window, the trees swaying in the wind, and they appear to be in slow motion, like a movie or some altered reality.
Very emotional for no apparent reason (well, I just looked at my chart and it's activated big time). I've cried twice and it's only 11am.