There is laundry hanging on the line outside, gently moving in the breeze. The windows are open and there is robin perched on the poplar at the back of the garden, singing his heart out. There is the scent of yeast in the kitchen as the sourdough rises yet again. This afternoon I will plant sweet peas, climbing nasturtiums and scarlet runner beans to attract hummingbirds.
Later on I'll take Lucy out for a walk and I'm guessing that the small lake on the path in the photo above will have dried up. There is overland flooding all around the county but we are dry and safe.
Katie is doing well on her new meds, mostly. The threat of eviction has been removed and there is a new case worker from social services working with the agency to come up with new ideas for dealing with Katie's behaviors. I met the case worker on Thursday and fell in love with her. She is kind, stubborn, opinionated, thoughtful and cares only about her clients, not the bureaucracy she works for. She talked about the trauma that disabled people face throughout their lives and of course I started crying. Even before meeting Katie it seemed like she knew Katie. This gives me hope.
Work is much better which makes life so much easier. There is still anger and despair and grief but I have enough in myself now to be able to carry it for my patients for the short time they're with me. And there is also laughter and joy because life doesn't stop just because you get a cancer diagnosis. It goes on, the good, the bad, the funny, the awful; it all still continues. Such is life.