ahmaizingroses

Chamois colored roses

It’s been a weird, weird week—in an equally weird month. I miss July.

But it’s all good. Really it is. I’m finding my way, finding inspiration in the resolve. Summer is ending. But September, my friends, September always holds the promise of potential. Cool clean breezes. Dappled sunlight and lingering days. It really is all good.

What made me smile today:

Sitting on the porch with Sophie. She sits on my lap and we look out at the Columbia. I can’t help but breathe in that doggie smell and tell her I love her. “I love you more than I love some people, Sophie. Don’t tell.”  And sometimes, she looks up and takes a deep breath of me. We were meant for each other.

Chamois colored roses. I’ve never seen this color before and the more I look, the more intrigued I am.

Long conversations, long walks, long coffee breaks. . . lingering with IZ. Sometimes, the Universe gives you exactly what you need. . . or who you need. And that more than makes up for any of life’s deficits.

Oscar, the Welsh Corgi at the top of the hill, barking to greet us as we puffed up, up, up the hill. “He’s barking because he recognizes you,” his person told us. “Just wait.” Sure enough, he began running down the stairs of their second story deck—barking and lumbering at full speed toward us.  Oscar, who usually reigns on his expanse of  lawn, sitting Sphinx like, looking regal and prim, tail swishing in recognition, was happy to see us. “Hi, Oscar,” catching our breath, “We’re so glad to see you too, buddy!”

Explaining hair products to my son. If all goes right, he’ll share my addiction in no time. Aveda here we come.

Listening to the Ting Tings tonight, as I write these lines.

It is all good, my friends.