Island awakening

            My first Sutton Island awakening of the season came with mixed feelings. The sound of the sea mesmerized, but my opened eyes revealed a disoriented room. Oh yes, we moved the bed last night. Rainstorm. Cascading dripstreams; *plunk* into buckets and bowls. A new one began its rhythmic, dampening beat over Jonathan’s hip.
            We need a new roof. Also, a pipe froze, so we’re bucket flushing and have no hot water. Also, many windows are boarded over, awaiting repair. Also, the deck is an ice rink when wet and must be powerwashed or resanded. Also…also…also…
            It was cold. I tried to dip back under the covers and hide. But the dogs were stirring, things needed doing.
            Didn’t we just do all those repairs? Sure, “just” twenty years ago. Time happens.
            But the moss is at its thickest and greenest plush. Long-dried firewood blazes merrily into warmth. No signs of mice! The view from the front porch has lost no grandeur. And it’s quiet, and it’s safe, and it’s home.
            Okay, we can do this.
                       
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 263: 174 words, TOTAL = 44,687; 15,313 remaining