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Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Disguised

The winter came in strong and wild, and we are enjoying the glorious rain.  Grasses grow high and we pick and discard mushrooms sprouting up ahead of the dogs. 

The artichoke is the lone survivor from last summer's garden, and its offspring are flourishing under the olives.  Waiting, watching, hoping for the blossoms to come so we can till the garden and start again.

An interesting plan to fence in some of the land for a bigger, proper garden has brought to light the changes coming in the fields beyond.  Trees are being planned, almonds, and we sit in our lawn chairs and imagine. We have memorized the view to the Buttes and gaze at the farms across a stretch of sunflowers leaning into the sun.  What will become of our view?  I closed my eyes and visualized ... blossoms covering the little limbs as they grow, slowly transforming what is there to what will be. Another beautiful view...

A well was discovered under old weathered wood, with a pump and disconnected pipe coming up from the ground. It is in a lonesome part of the yard covered with mounds of old concrete and wire fencing, that we are clearing. Our neighbor who owns the land says wells are never abandoned, and I wonder if he means its usefulness is staged for a reprise.

A property we own was seriously damaged by an unreported leak that went on for months. In the aftermath of working, planning, rebuilding, back and forth with insurance and subcontractors, what has emerged is a mixed bag of emotions.

It is so easy to be angry over the situation and the tenant getting away scot free. It has been a disheartening insurance debacle. The white hot emotion burns with worry and recompense.  We want him to pay, to learn his lesson.

And yet. As we put our hands into the project, planned it out, ordered the cabinets, bought the tile, things started to settle into a new mindset. Putting our spin on what we envision it to be. A reprise.

Yes, we will always be disappointed with someone who was careless with something that wasn't theirs.  It has taken a lot of our time and effort and created more angst to set things right. The situation is not our fault and it's not fair.

Granted. But among the challenges here we have discovered an opportunity for joy.

Like the pride we feel watching our kids step up without complaint or hesitation to help. Like the thanksgiving of looking with amazement at our kid's friends who are offering to give up a weekend to help get the old gal back up and rented. Like discovering the shared vision of working on the project together, solving the problems one at a time, and learning how important teamwork can be. Like watching the transformation as the unit becomes even more beautiful than before.

In dark times, when things feel hopeless, they rarely are. I can't say how all of this will play out, but we've got more than our share of blessings.