Bits and pieces..

I just spent the past 2 1/2 hours drinking in the morning. I woke up at 630 'cause little Miss Sadie had to go pee. I got up took her out, and it was frozen solid out there. 26 F and getting warmer. The sun was just about to peek over the horizon, and the sky was gorgeous. Mauve and Pink and Purple, with the Alder trees still in silhouette against it. I crawled back into my nice cozy bed and lay there watching the day get brighter. Soon the sun was peeking through the trees, around the trunks, and playing peek-a-boo with me. As I moved my head up, it went behind a tree, then when I moved it, the sun would pop out bright and orange and say BOO! We played this little game for a bit. I had not turned on the TV yet, and I just lay there listening.

As the sun went higher, I started hearing the fog horns down on the Strait hooting, and then the one on the Point at Fort Warden answered Toot! Then the one at Fort Flagler answered Boop, Boop! So all morning long it was HOOT, Toot, boop-boop. Then a pause of about 30 seconds, and then they would start all over again. You get so used to hearing them, that when you don't, it seems like something is missing. It is like a heart beat. Hoot, toot, boop-boop, Hoot, toot, boop-boop. It is so comforting.

AS I lay there, I rolled onto my tummy and rested my chin on the window sill, opened the window wider so I could hear the birds and the squirrels, and watched my breath billow out the window like mini-clouds. Ever tried to blow breath rings in the cold air? Ya oughta try it...but then I could never blow smoke rings like my sister could. (She would blow smoke rings, then stick her fingers through them and say "can't die a virgin")

I watched as the Juncos came to the feeder, with their little chippy calls, so cute. My Mom used to call them snow birds. Then the Chickadees with there chick-a-dee-dee-dee call. Soon the Northern flickers found the suet blocks and then the finches woke up and Mr. Robin Red-breast too. It was so comforting laying there with Sadie on my legs, chitters on my back, lint all cozied up to my side, Ethel in the window, and Loki down on the other side. All cozy and warm under the wonderful electric blanket.

Doesn't get much better than that!

I finally got out of bed, and came in to make a pot of coffee, and post. I stopped by the desk and grabbed my address book to look up a phone number, and out fell everything that over the past 35 years, I have stuffed into it. As I was picking everything up, I found this poem, that I had cut out many years ago, I have no clue where it came from, but I think it is from the inside of a book I was reading at the time. Maybe Nora Roberts, or Roseanne Bittner cant remember, but I know that when I read this, I absolutely felt that it said everything about where I belong. I have a note on it that I want it read when My ashes are scattered over the mountains.
(and hopefully no time soon!)


The Mountains rise to protect me,
To hold me fast.
They surround me like a fortress;
Their valleys and canyon floors cradle me.
Their bright colors comfort me, and
Their wildlife sings to me.
I belong here.
My soul comes from these mountains;
And someday, when death claims me,
I will become part of their glory---
Howling with the wolves,
Singing with the birds,
Smiling with the wildflowers.
I belong here.