I tiptoe through empty. Mindful to step easy when I reach vinyl. Not wild about down.
Moisture clings to windows, and I see dimly.
The house vibrates with damp and hums with dry.
I’m instructed to turn the heat up past 58.
No need to tell me twice.
I can’t remember the last time we had the carpets cleaned. Certainly before Rose Dog’s illness. Mr. Carpet Man tries a new product on the stains that seem to vaporize in moments.
He’s going deeper still.
Sanitizing and deodorizing.
To make it rolling baby ready.
We moved four rooms of clutter into two other rooms this weekend.
And I don’t plan to move it all back.
Because I feel the light.
I crave the light.
And unencumbered travel. Clutter free. Emptied with focus full and free to roll.
I think about how light reveals and how light vaporizes.
How sometimes we have to climb up to see it.
And how sometimes we have to fall down.
And sometimes I think I think too much.
Joining L.L. Barkat at Seedlings in Stone as we celebrate On, In and Around Mondays.
Joining others as we count our multitude of blessings.
Today I’m grateful for:
- Feathered friends.
- Furry purrs.
- Scent of clean.
- Warmth from cold.
- Forever love.
- Hot tea.
- A Kenyan girl.
- What was and what will be.
- Crisp white sheets.
- Frosted green.
- Fluffy socks.
- Light that explodes through gray.