We go about our business and so does she until about two o’clock.
In the heat of the day, she shows up under the orange tree for her nap. She’s scooped
out a place in the rocks where she can lower her belly into earth cooled by
irrigation. She wiggles down, gets comfy and places her head on a rocky pillow
for a snooze.
These bells were once employed by my son-in-law’s family to
call ranch hands to meals. Now they grace the wall of our desert getaway. I’ve
always enjoyed the process of setting up a new home. It’s a chance to create
change. We will live differently here. If I can keep distractions at bay, I
will write more. It’s that’s a big “if,” because it’s my nature to engage.
“You went to water aerobics,” said my friend Sandy. “That’s
a slippery slope!” She’s right. I also signed up to hear the pastor of the
church we attend in the desert present his vision for senior ministry, “just so
I can get ideas to bring home to our deacon board,” I assured my husband. Can I
strike a balance between being neighborly and being reclusive? I hope I can.
