The smell of love

Its cold this morning. Fresh snow has fallen overnight. The sky is low. Grey. Out the window, the one that looks out over the village, crows caw and move about, the only evidence of movement or life. I'm struck by the colors and lines of this coastal new england village. It really is lovely, soft greys, yellow, reds, brick red.

The crows caw. Sam sits by me and a duck passes overhead. PTT is sleeping. Its Saturday morning, after 8 am, yet with these dark winter days, time naturally takes a more leisurely pace. I told Aymie I'd come to her cookie gathering later today. Cookies and wine. I like her. I admire her. Her facebook personality is delightful. I wish she didn't live in Bangor. Probably not going to go. Thinking about AGT coming to stay tomorrow. She's decided to do the week on week off thing. I think it'll be ok. I'm feeling some of anticipation about the idea of her being here this winter, about getting up and making a warm, loving kitchen... something stable for her to connect with. Looking forward to her company just because she is a sweet, smart, darling young woman. I really want her to connect with her sister ST when she's home this xmas too.

I'm feeling in love w/ my beloved mate this morning. I always like it wen we break through to a place of clarity and the stories and angst are missing.

I keep telling him that I just wanted to end my life knowing that I'm really, really loved, seen, cherished.
Why not? I pose? Why not step into the being kind and generous and loving, just because. Why not keep the courtship going on and on? Why not?

I'm still wrestling with the pain of peeing.

The doc proposes surgery. I'm suggesting a valium and another visit back to his office. He's said, ok. But, it was a reluctant ok. Says he's got better equipment in the OR.

Breathing.

Thinking about this makes me feel overwhelmed. I want to wish the issue away. I think there is something about tension and stress that is making me this way. Yet, there is a stinging and a sense of blockage. Donna tells me about a doc in Bangor that she likes. Says I should go see him.

Yesterday, PTT's doc tells him that yeah, you probably have cancer. Prostate Cancer. Scheduling a biopsy. His PSA was 12.3. Intermediate Risk. He doesn't want to have it spread to his bones. I was worried that he'd disregard this information and not follow through on recommended treatments. I don't think that's the case now.

Well, I'm off to the kitchen now. To warm it with smells and love.