Thump! Thump! It never fails to scare me, lost as I am in front of my computer in the midst of writing a story, surrounded by my characters who constantly appear in times and places I can only imagine.
It’s my dog, Kacy, performing her middle-of-the-night-attention-getting routine. There is one loose brick on the sill outside our large picture window and she knows exactly which one it is she should stand on and rock back and forth. She knows if I can spare a few moments away from my intense imaginings, I will come and open the back door to give her cuddles and back scratches. Ohh, and don’t forget around the ears and hearty chest scratch. Did I say ‘IF’? Ha! I almost never refuse her this loving time, being an added excuse to stretch my back and wriggle my shoulders.
And best of those ‘me’ things, a reason to breathe deeply of our beautiful, clean country air. And count my blessings for us being Australian farmers. That’s not always a blessing, but in the midst of these troubled times? Oh yes. Most definitely.
I feel so deeply for those who can only experience public Life through a window. And those who live in tiny apartments or even only single rooms if they are in care of any kind. Our days roll on with no other people in our near area other than hubby and I, two dogs a-barking, one cat a-purring, countless birds a-tweeting, cattle a-mooing- (both near – ours; and far -neighbours’), and a couple of properties over, a flock of sheep a-baaing.
Our vegie garden is a bit woeful at this time of the year, but still enjoying the last of our potatoes, spinach and tiny tomatoes. Even before this enforced ‘house arrest facsimile situation’, I had done heaps of pickling and freezing, so all storage space is well-stocked.
But outside – ahh, there is the place to be. When the sun shines and our corner of the world experiences the last warm days, the hive of bees that live in our disused Dining room fireplace chimney (now carefully sealed up) come out to gather the final leftovers of summer. There’s little to match the sound of bees cheerfully buzzing around when I’m amongst the blissful aromas of garden and surrounding farmland.
On this Good Friday of Easter, 2020, I remember words my mother loved to quote –
‘God’s in his heaven; all’s right with my world’