My little Twister has been learning to go back outside. From the starving, sick stray who was once confined to a small 12X12 bedroom while he recovered from two parasites, an upper respiratory infection and pinkeye to my plump little man who used to have to go back into his room behind a gate at night to ensure household peace. Today, the gate rests off its hinges against a wall by his room and he roams free inside. Lately? He’s started taking his first ventures back outside. Today, he was out for a full hour – not always supervised – and decided when he was ready to come back in on his own. While no coaxing was necessary, he was still rewarded with a plate of crunchies for continuing to call this place home.
Twister, it would appear, is just mere days away from living his best life. Had we not adopted him when we did, he would have died within a week. Very soon, just like our other furry little being in the house, he will be able to self-select when he wants to go outside and come inside. He keeps his warm, cushy beds, the good food, extra snacks, plethora of toys and unlimited belly rubs. For a kitty who expected so little, I watch him sleeping on the rug near the dining room and hope that he feels like he’s gotten so much.
It was a long rehab and integration for our two cats. Initially, he was too sick to even think of meeting the rest of the family (read: Meadow). That first month he was inside was all about medicine, extra food, extra love and lots of safe places to sleep. Then, Meadow was not exactly welcoming. It took a few months of him being closed in and her being allowed to roam free, then her being closed in and him roaming free before they finally were able to roam free together but supervised. A few more months would go by before Meadow would join us on the couch in the evenings like she used to and even another few months went by before Twister would even get on the couch. Today? They’re not besties but they coexist pretty well. But, it took five months before the cats could roam free together without any “parenting”… something I wondered if it would ever happen. The only tense moments now are during meal and snack times, but even that is better.
As Twister takes the final step in reclaiming his old world and blending it with his new world, I have this sense that just like him, I can expect changes on my horizon. Obviously, some of those changes are related to the coming summer. It’s absolutely glorious here in summer. It’s warm with 13-14 hours of daylight and lots of life to enjoy on the lake, in our gardens, and by our backyard firepit. And then there’s the winding down of the pandemic. I know that epidemiologists and public health officials don’t want to talk about it yet, but the sheer numbers bear out the reality. With over 25% of the public having had Covid and another 40% already vaccinated, the virus will continue to wind down and ultimately become more benign and endemic than the pandemic it is today.
But there is that other sense of change on the horizon that has struck me lately. It’s weird, because at every point where major change has happened in my life, I’ve known “it” was going to happen before it did. If I had a “spidey sense” I would call it that. It’s just a combination of subtle contexts in conversations, weird dreams and what seems like random, spontaneous opportunities. I’ve felt this way about five times before in my life. First, when I was bored as an editor at my local newspaper and the hospital called to offer for me to interview for a job. Then, just before I became a CEO. After that, about two months before I met my husband. And finally, the weeks leading up to my second conversation about my current job. Lately, I’ve tried to ignore the signals, but they’re there again. Another yoga nidra class seeping into my consciousness, a couple of half-hearted spontaneous new opportunities, and a growing sense of “what’s next” within myself.
As I’ve been trying to write this column lately, I’ve gotten stuck here and there with literally weeks of unposted drafts littering my computer. Part of it was because the thoughts wouldn’t come together. Part is because the writing didn’t reflect what I was really thinking and feeling. And yet another part was that even if I did want to write about my “spidey sense,” it sounded so out there – so beyond the pale – that I would undo the good work of my blog by posting things that talked about what was really dominating my thoughts.
But there it is. My “spidey sense” is on alert. It feels like our next life is going to happen soon and in ways I can’t predict or fathom, but in good ways. I’m a tiny bit afraid and I’m mostly excited. My little family is so at peace and contented, that a big part of me wants it to stay like this. But as I watch Darryl’s business blossom, Meadow continue to mellow out with her brother and Twister take his first tentative steps outside, I realize that this family is solid and growing.
Like Meadow peaking around the corner before she walks into a room, I don’t know what to expect next. Today, I spent the first few hours of the day updating my spreadsheets and calculating our retirement plan. It seemed like the thing to do. It sounds weird, but making sure our retirement is on track – or even a little ahead of schedule – is super comforting when my “spidey sense” is going off. From someone who was once financially vulnerable when I graduated from college with more debt than I could even fathom, I rush back to the security of financial planning like Twister continues to run up to his room when things get too chaotic.
But the plan is good and this little family is ready. We are all happy and healthy and ready for new adventures. So, if the “new” does happen, it won’t be a shock. In fact, I’ll be ready for it.
So, here’s to great expectations.
The Yuppie Homesteader 