Everyday Life

 The best part of my day has quietly become this little morning ritual. I fill the bird feeders, give a drink to the plants that aren’t on irrigation yet, fill the bird bath and then I sit down with my coffee and watch what can only be described as total bird anarchy outside my window. Honestly, it’s better than TV.

This is also the time of day when I feel things a little more deeply. I miss the people who aren’t here anymore. I catch myself thinking about my mom, and I like to imagine she’d approve of what I’ve made here. I can almost see her at the patio table—coffee in one hand, cigarette in the other—watching the sun come up behind the mountains like she’s got nowhere else to be.

There are some hard things going on right now, and my default setting is to do what I’ve always done—hide. Not in any dramatic way, just that quiet, pull-the-covers-over-your-head kind of hiding. Like being a kid in the dark, convinced something’s lurking under the bed or in the closet. Of course, hiding just makes everything feel bigger and scarier. So… I’m pulling the blanket down a little. Just peeking out for now, but—it’s progress.

On the brighter side, I get to see my granddaughter this week. It’s been years, and I honestly don’t know how I’m supposed to look at her and not see a 9-year-old. Apparently, she went ahead and became an adult without asking.  I’m really looking forward to that time together, even if my brain needs a minute to catch up.

Meanwhile, the backyard has decided to keep me humble. I spent about seven hours yesterday wrestling with the irrigation system, which I’m pretty sure is winning. This week’s plan includes regulators and a couple of those four-port drip manifolds—“spiders.” I’m trying to run everything off one zone, but I’ve got a feeling this is going to turn into two… maybe three… which means more time on YouTube and a steady stream of me muttering, “I am way too old for this shit.”

And then there’s the yard itself. I look around and think, “Well… your ADHD brain really went all in, didn’t it?” I’ve made promises to two of my friends—no more random plants, no more lights, no more geegaws from thrift stores. I did not, however, say anything about Costco.  I know I might need to start attending Backyard Anonymous. “Hi, my name is…., and I bought another unnecessary garden decoration…”

But honestly? Sitting out here, listening to the wind chimes, the birds arguing over breakfast, and watching the sun melt into the sky… it’s my favorite place to be. It’s peaceful, it’s a little messy, and it feels like home.