Last night was the first night I had the house to myself in three weeks. It felt strange. Kind of amazing how easily I've become accustomed to sharing 'my' space again. I'm not usually that good at it. I didn't sleep very well - kept waking up and wondering at the lack of sound.
I once read that trust is sleeping with both eyes closed. I guess I've learned to trust - my own instincts more than anything. It's not that I haven't usually had good instincts. More often than not, I'm pretty much dead on about seeing through to the who of a person. Always been a good judge of character. I think, in the past, it's my own character that I didn't quite feel I could rely upon... that ever shifting, sifting moody thing, the rambling thought pattern, the freekin' gypsy flights of fancy. Now I feel grounded in my own who. Probably a culmination of maturity and all the soul-spelunking I've done over the past year, but it still strikes me as a somewhat curious and novel feeling.
Well over half of you are probably scratching your heads and saying, "Huh?!" right about now. See... it's like this... Scott and his son Mark have been staying with me for the past few weeks. They just kind of gypsied their way into my life, and I've liked it. A lot. It feels good to have people to come home to, to wake up to. Been polishing my sadly neglected cooking skills for lads who clearly enjoy a good meal. I'd forgotten just how much I love to cook, and especially for people who appreciate it. The big trade off is that I get my lawn mowed and Birddog gets washed. (Would I complain?! Nevah!!!) Yesterday was Scott's birthday so they went over to his daughter's house to celebrate and crashed out there. No big deal... it just left me with a rather long night and a crazy jumble of dreams.
I've grown accustomed to your face.
You almost make the day begin.
I've grown accustomed to the tune that
You whistle night and noon.
Your smiles, your frowns,
Your ups, your downs
Are second nature to me now;
Like breathing out and breathing in.
I was serenely independent and content before we met;
Surely I could always be that way again-
I've grown accustomed to your look;
Accustomed to your voice;
Accustomed to your face.
~My Fair Lady, Accustomed to Her Face