The spring sun has risen and I hunch for a moment over the death box before the shovels fly. Too cold for planting yet with the weekend lows hovering in the high twenties, but much work to do regardless. Good thing too, the "too much to do" keeps me moving. If I stand for too many moments my mind goes dark. The loss, the fall, the horror of it all. Growing things keeps it at bay, with the aid of some choice chemicals and healthy dose of artistic endeavour. It's a struggle to be sure, even with the "best I've ever done" on the table before me. I stand outside many of the little joys now, and always will. A societal anomaly with an empty nest whilst the others bring forth new lives with the loving support of lifelong partners.
I have a cat and five guitars...
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