I really should go to bed but I am here, tapping out a few words and thoughts. I really shouldn’t be enjoying a cup of tea. I’ll be up to the bathroom a few times during the night. But I am thirsty and seeking a bit of comfort. It’s goiji berry tea. I’ll be good for me. In times past, Sheba always kept company with me. My fur baby’s been gone for 3 years now. I have to wing these times on my own, without her soft animal body close by.

Life, I should really say I feels strange these days. It’s a sense of detachment, unachored and maybe a little unhinged. It feels like being underwater. There’s no sound. No one can hear or see me. It’s like the sound of one hand clapping. So I come here to be seen and heard, to put my thoughts and feelings down in black and white.

Perhaps I’m feeling melancholic after reading Doris Lessing’s The Grass is Singing. I’m identifying with the female character, Mary and her tragic life. Though it is set in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), it could easily have been in my small Saskatchewan hometown. Our lives were small and limited. I have more sense of it now than before. I’m not sure if it’s true or not but it does make me sad. It will pass when the book fades from my body’s memory. Sad is not always bad. It is restful.

Now I can take myself to bed. My tea is finished. I’ve put away a few things so I can have a good start in the morning. I have to pay bills, bake bread and clean house. Those are my priorities. Then I need to make a trip to our community garden. Someone has been stealing our carrots! Why do people do that?