⌘ tamer animals ⌘

handmade | illustrated | found | curated design

pine needles

Taylor P.Comment

Sometimes when the rain falls, I remember. I remember the cold pane of the window, the way I would breathe in the old factory dampness. My face would be cold to the touch, pressed up against that

tempered glass. I would hear the rain fall swiftly, thudding on the roof, hitting the glass with effortless wandering as the drops fell to the street below. But that was long ago; another story of another time

when life was full of wonder and merriment.

Now, four years later, here I am, my face pressed against new windows in an old house, feeling the fall season climbing into the crevices; The rain swiftly pattering on the roof, daintily patterned with the

silvers and blues of the morning’s waning light. The hardwood floors creak as I set the table for breakfast, the coldness of the house invigorated by the lamplight above. It is very quiet here; quite peaceful,

in fact. The animals are still sleeping snugly in their beds, opening their eyes for just a moment to sense my passing shadow. I imagine they think of me as a giant, in this place.

The pine cones are falling now, the delicate branches drooping in the rain. The garden is starting to look sparse as the threat of winter slowly creeps in, but I imagine it much like a jungle in weather such

as this. I try to be quiet, moving across the room in mock silence, my bare feet softly gnawing against the hard planks. In the kitchen I stir my tea and fry the beignets, a lone candle guiding my way. I have

been reading a Sartre novel about Existentialism lately, so my thoughts are varied throughout the day as I expunge myself into that state of being. As I set my breakfast out to cool, I hear a familiar jingle

of my dog’s collar. She crawls out of the bed and stands at the doorway, looking at me quizzically.

I slip into my galoshes and grab a warm sweater, getting ready for the chill. Securing her harness and leash, I grab the umbrella and stand outside. She hates being out in the rain, so she does her

business quickly. It is a very quiet Saturday, I remark. The neighbors are still sleeping; the birds are sleeping. The world is asleep.

We enter the house and I dry her off with a warm towel. I always like wrapping her in a towel and holding her close because it reminds me of when she was a puppy and I used to bathe her. She was so

much smaller back then- I could pick her up in one hand practically! My cat peers warily from the living room, carefully taking stock of the motion occurring. He finally makes his way into the kitchen, his

nose lifted in the air to smell the beignets.

It is 6 AM. I’m not really sure why I am awake, honestly. It’s the weekend and I should be sleeping in, but it is so nice to know I have a day to myself to create; to ponder; to think; to dream. I don’t know

what I am doing today, but I have tons of lists of things I would like to do. I am eating breakfast now, the smell of tea and powdered sugar sifting through the rooms. The silence is almost stifling, but after a

while I hear cars pass by and know the world is waking up, too. I love the light here; the way it transgresses throughout the rooms and becomes oblique.

I stand in front of a round mirror on the wall, taking stock of myself. I have lost a lot of weight these past few weeks, but in some ways the peace in my face makes me seem healthier than I actually am.

My hair is disheveled, my teeth need a good brushing, but I look overall sane (although a bit sleepy). I walk into the bathroom, wash the sleep from my face, and step into the shower. The water is cold at

first, to my dismay, but after a few moments it is surprisingly pleasant and warm. I take a long, luxurious shower, pausing only momentarily to grab a towel from the linen closet. Afterward, I glower

displeasingly at the gold accents on the faucets, and brush my teeth. I then apply my makeup and spend a while searching through my closet for something comfortable and weather-appropriate.

I received my downtown parking pass earlier in the week, so I consider going downtown to take photos. My divorce will be final in two weeks, which is a mix of both sadness and relief, but I know it is only

the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I have to be strong, I tell myself, and not let his daily dalliances get to me. At the thought of all this, I decide to stay in. The pets need me now more than ever, so

the more I am home, the better we will all feel. I turn on the TV and the pets curl up on the couch, catching up on worldly events. I spend the next half hour cleaning the kitchen and floors, taking the trash

out, and getting some bills ready to drop in the mail. The proof of my second magazine issue is supposed to come in the mail either today or Monday, so I am looking forward to perusing it.

I open the door to my “sanctuary” (or “sewing room”) and browse the multi-colored facets of my fabric. I would like to make some things today, but I don’t know what yet. I am supposed to do a craft fair

next week so I still need to make about ten more items. My etsy store is doing pretty well, despite my limited schedule of creation, so I have to get a few items ready to ship today. My birthday is in a few

weeks, so I am thinking of taking a trip to Asheville for the weekend, by myself. I could stay downtown, walk down Lexington, eat breakfast at Izzy’s, and maybe take some photos (for old time’s sake). Life

is such an influx of memories sometimes that it can be frightening to say the least.

My mother calls, and I pace around the house, dusting the mantle of the fireplace and fluffing pillows, laughing jovially at a story she is telling me. She is curious to know how things are going, and for the

first time in a while I can honestly say they are going well. Now that I’ve been settled in a few months, the fear is slowly melting away. The permanency of my situation is starting to settle in as well, so I am

starting to feel freedom where for a long time there wasn’t one. I am able to live for myself; not for someone else all the time.

I make the bed, pulling the sheets taunt. We talk for a few hours until my doorbell rings. A friend of mine has brought me lunch, surprisingly, and we sit out on the gazebo and chat about different things

going on in our lives and her travels (She just got back from being overseas). We huddle close together, speaking of many things yet often wordlessly aloof. Sometimes the silence makes you feel a little

less alone, when it is shared. When she leaves, I decide to head downtown on my scooter to the farmer’s market to get some vegetables and to the library to rent a film. I decide to rent “Intolerance” and

return to curl up on the couch with the pets for a nice, safe afternoon at home. We end up falling asleep on the couch for a nap, but after a while my dog awakens me to go to the bathroom. Afterward, I

grab my knitting needles and begin working on the scarf I am making for a friend. I remember to set the lemon basil out to get some much-needed watering and take a cutting to place in tonight’s feast.

Now I am getting ready to make leek soup and naan bread. Life is never perfect, but I feel so much more accomplished today than I have in a long time. So much more alive…..free.