This December Day

The waves are fitful outside my window - the wind is working them up into white froth. The cat is snuggled on my bed, the dog curled up in a tiny circle on her pillow. The girls are in their rooms - one reading, one watching anime. You can guess which is doing which. :)

I keep feeling a compulsion to write, but never do. I always open up this blog, sit and think, and then close it, because I think 'to what end?' To whom am I writing? For what purpose? 

But this afternoon I offer myself a challenge to write whatever comes to mind, for no purpose but that I feel like doing so. Imagine it is simply a small glimpse into my current life.

We live somewhere else now. A tiny riverside cottage in a much more rural area than we were in Marblehead. We love it here, especially me. It's quiet and oh so beautiful. There is a great horned owl in the tree outside my window. There is was a great blue heron in September and October, but he seems to have moved on. There are daily sunnings of cormorants, a few very devoted seagulls who claim our pier as home. There are more bunnies than I have ever seen outside of a Beatrix Potter book. There are red-tailed hawks and ducks and foxes and, sometimes, a coyote. They, the coyotes, live at the rocky start of the peninsula on which we live now. We are at the far end - the fingertip - so we don't see them much. We are surrounded by a mature grove of oaks, and the house is perched on a beautiful outcropping of smooth rocks that act as a boundary between us and the river. It's heaven.

Matilda took awhile to adjust. She really missed her friends and the busy-ness of a typical suburban life. Knowing she truly has the soul of a writer and needs solitude, I imagined she'd adjust. She did. Now she can't fathom living that old life, this one being so rich in nature, quiet, and generous time to think and paint and write.  Nastia seemed ambivalent at first. She could take it or leave it. She missed easy access to supermarkets and the Russian store, but otherwise seems just as content her as at our old home. They both love that we are closer to family here - cousins around the corner and other cousins just a block away. Seeing them more has been just grand.

Nastia's baby is due in the next two weeks. We are ready. Our tiny home is chock full of baby things - pack and plays, carseat, bouncy-chair, bottles, bibs, and the rest of the required gear. I think he's coming early, but that may just be wishful thinking on my part. 

Nastia's fiancé should arrive by February, God-willing. We applied for his visa in July. They talk on the phone for a good four hours every day. They are both handling the separation better than I would in their shoes. 

We still miss our beloved Henry (dog) and Puck (cat) who both died this year. Both lived long happy lives, but it still aches to have them gone. We talk about them daily. Anya and Sasha remain well, relatively speaking. Daniel, too. I have some great friends supporting them while I remain unable. I still talk to Daniel weekly, but Anya not so much. She is not as accessible, for whatever reason. But I do still get photos of Sasha and send care packages when I can - a Christmas one is going out this week.

What is going on in your lives? How have they changed? I'm grateful to those of you who emailed me after my post on Nov 19th. I didn't know commenting had been turned off. I think I fixed it. Let me know.

Happy advent to all. Christus Venit.