one thousand

Wood fire in the little stove, rain on the roof, one thousand client files scanned into the computer, house plants in a milk crate, lamplight in an empty corner, a packed up and cleaned out house.

The first two items are some of my favorite things. 

The knowledge that my little hands have treated one thousand people blows me away. 

At first I struggled, but now I'm getting into the solitary groove and enjoying my empty lonely week, last one standing in the house, doing the cleaning and retreating out of each room day by day until all the things that are coming with me to salmon arm are ordered neatly in the main room and everything else gets sorted, ordered, recycled, burned, scanned, packaged, boxed, donated, or eaten. 

My own bedtime, my own entertainment, my own scraped together meals, (sardines with raddichio, baby greens, pumpernickel bread and soft boiled egg).

I'm soaking in everything about this valley. The fresh leaves are 'lamb shit green', as malcolm would say, and go beautifully with the blue and white of the mountains as a backdrop. Winter seems far far away and unimaginable right now. 

In my future home, I want to have a roof that amplifies the sound of rain on it.