Relative Something

There is a very strong sense of preparation around here. The trees are all fully undressed for winter. The squirrels are working like mad to do everything it is they do to get ready. Cyndie arrived home last night with a car full of holiday-looking groceries, bulking up our food stores in feastly proportions. The neighbors have been firing their weapons and probing the darkness with spot-lights on scouting missions for the big hunt. There are new food bowls, litter boxes, and various feline devices showing up in advance of the scheduled arrival of two (hopefully) mousers coming this weekend.

I don’t have any idea how to prepare for what it is I am in for here. Most of my being is struggling against succumbing to the belief that we have bitten off more than I can chew. I have moments of calm acceptance of the challenges ahead, and then I have the rest of the time, wherein it seems each issue I begin to consider appears involved enough to command all of my attention, all of the time. And for each issue, there are ten more beside it, and ten more again, beside each of those.

Time to take some breaths, and not in the bedroom, where it smells like the mouse poison has claimed a hidden victim.

I need to prepare myself for the many successes we will experience in our endeavors here. It’s only been barely a month since we arrived. It will take a while for me to get over the initial shock I am experiencing. Luckily, I have Cyndie to carry me along. She helps me re-focus away from my concerns of failing, to look toward the goals we intend to achieve.

I’m going to visualize how great it will be when our bedroom doesn’t smell like a dead mouse anymore.