Finding Our Comfort Zones

For once, Monday behaved his little self.  Yesterday, Wednesday, saw more appointments for Mom.  Right now the house suffers from CHAOS (read, "Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome"), but medical stuff is medical stuff, so housework be dipped.

So far, we've met with the nurse, spiritual counselor, social worker, and dietitian to bring comfort to Mom.  Now, we have what I hope constitutes the making of a great team.  I couldn't live without our daily CNA and I have the utmost respect for these folks.  Comfort may be taking its sweet time getting here, but it's coming.  Perhaps the weather has bogged it down.

And speaking of weather last Monday arrived with the 3 H's - Hazy, Hot, & Humid.  These three hangers-on insist on staying through the holiday weekend and beyond.  Talk about uninvited guests!  If it's not raining, it feels like its going to rain.  The air soaks through me.  I'm not talking pleasant weather here.  I'm talking air one can swim through, then it rains, then the sun shines adding more heat to the simmering pot known as summer.  Weird, truly weird.

I admire folks who endure the other seasons just to get to the "stickies".  Truly, I'm always baffled by their reasoning of wanting to be in a position where sweating's regarded as a good thing.  I. AM. NOT. ONE. OF. THOSE.  PEOPLE.  During these humid spells I want to wander off to a cool cave with a good book and a bucketful of iced tea as I wait for Fall to rescue me.  My imagination wanders to those brisk October days dressed in bright scarlet, gold, and oranges.  Trying to stay in the moment while trying to forget this is the third shower I've taken today proves uncomfortable.  Very uncomfortable.  

Now peeking out at the gardens.  My gardens.  Now they are my weed-filled, overgrown, looking pretty shabby gardens.  My heart wants to get out there to set things right.  Nice clean beds.  Straightened up and looking pretty.  The head tells me I'm full of it and, if I want to hit the shower again, have at it.  I return to writing in that imaginary cave, telling myself that it'll keep until evening when the weather turns cools.

Dickens struggles in this weather as well.  He'll be groomed next week, but in the meantime he sleeps struggling to find a comfortable spot.  Compounding his discomfort, Fourth of July fireworks.  His young self slept in a cage at a pet shop last year.  The sounds of air conditioning compressors accompanying his dreams and masking the "boom boom" this holiday brings.  Last night's first pop led to a series of barks, yelps, and flipping out.  I tried to redirect his angst by playing with him until 1:30 AM.  He finally knocked off too exhausted by the rockets red glare.  For tonight's main event, a little bit of comfort in the form of calm down drops.

While this post may present itself as a long rant against summer, that is not the case.  I see grace in the seasons.  I'm in awe of summer-lovers as I've said previously.  They find their comfort zone in this season.  What I'm speaking to is the wonder of how we as humans define comfort.  Some find their comfort in corporate America, some on a farm, some helping others, others find no comfort in "the rest of us" and improving life as we know it.  This thing called "comfort" stands as tall as a redwood or as tiny as snowflake.  All we have to do, I think, is to try to find comfort in ourselves.

Oh, I almost forgot.  I found something that thrives in this weather and for which I am most grateful when the time comes...

Enjoy!