The first fire in the fireplace of the season, the first pair of flannel sheets on the bed.First night wearing my sheep-skin slippers instead of my flip-flops.
I splurged in the past three days and went clothes shopping twice. What used to be my everyday retail therapy has become an event in my life.
All the lovely summer dresses are on sale; 40%, 50% and more! scream the signs. Gorgeous baby-soft cotton dresses, slithery and smooth against slightly sunburnt skin beckon. All that skin out there when the chill is settling in. Instead I opted for sleeves and jeans. Soon, it will be layers, I must ease into this slowly.
Two firsts for wildlife sightings on the way down the hills to work, a bobcat and a timber wolf. Doubt me if you must, fish and game department, but that was no house cat or German Sheppard I slowed the car for. The bobcat crossed 10 feet in front of my car. It looked wary but not overly concerned. The timber wolf crossed 15 feet ahead of me but stopped to look back over his shoulder on a stone wall. I stopped, crept the car up next to him and rolled down the window, desperately seeking a collar or some sign he was a pet. He was majestic and huge, we looked at each other for a few seconds, then he hopped over the stone wall and was gone.
Unfortunately the first fire came with the realization that I share my world with beings who are not to my liking. I gathered wood from the growing piles outside, instead of the dry leavings from last season that are haphazardly stacked in my garage. When I merrily danced into the warm space at the end of the house scanning for my “saddle pad” wood sling, I was confronted with this visitor atop the driest pile.
As to the flannel sheets, They are worn and warm, which can be a curse when one occasionally still suffers from night-sweats at this late stage of life. No first there. I don’t mind the process anymore. I used to fight age, looking slightly askance at women whose age-spotted hands gave away their true station in life. I now look at my own hands and remember where every nick and scar came from and smile with the memories. First, is to accept with no shame, the foibles along with the celebrations.
This was the first cooking demo I ran without hands-on help from Korey and Kim. The store and I are finding our way. I had Deb and Kelly to dig in and anticipate what I couldn’t do. The landlords, Pete and Susan not only helped me set up, Susan offered to run home, shower and give up part of her Saturday to work with me if needed. Who gets that sort of offer??
Kelly jumping in to fill customer’s bottles during the demo.
My final “FIRST?” I am blessed at this point in my life to be in a good place. And I am wise enough to know it…