My houseplants woke up someplace new this morning. They and my books are staying at Mark's house till I can get into my house later this week. I have two more nights to sleep in the treehouse. I watched the fog over White Park this morning as I made my coffee. How the first time I noticed the phenomenon I felt like I had moved into Ravenloft (D&D setting that is separated from the real world by an impenetrable magical mist).
We painted the first room in the bakery yesterday. Tyler and I did it all by ourselves. We are not trained painters, but I think it looks ok. Only four rooms left. Mark brought us pizza, and then red velvet cheesecake "muffins" because that sounds healthier than "cupcake."
I fight this creeping fear, this underlying uneasiness that exists all through my life, with my breath. I slept poorly last night, I woke up terrified as if from a bad dream, but my head was empty of dreams. I practiced breathing till I could go back to sleep. I don't know how life is going to unfold, but nobody does, really. Letting go of the need to know, maybe that's what's terrifying. But leaving my sanctuary is sad and I have to let myself experience these feelings of loss for what they are. They maybe turn into terror for the future when I deny the sadness of the present.