Deva Weekend

It’s the Monday after the best weekend I’ve had in a while. All three of the men in my life packed up and left for Grandma’s on Friday morning and I was single until Sunday evening.
I practiced a lot of doing as well as being. Both felt really good.

I read for hours. I went to see Eclipse at the theater all by myself. I played in the garden. I completely organized the tools in my my new work area in the garage. Then, I decorated that area so it looks like a Deva works there, not a gray haired man with a tool belt. I moved my entire “altar” out to that space. (It had been in a room of the house I hardly ever go in because its full of boy stuff.)

I draped towels and blankets over all the railings on the back deck and laid in the sun naked. (Some pilot in a low-flying small aircraft got a show, but nothing I could do about that.) A girlfriend took me to Wilf’s where I sat in a high-backed red chair and listened to an amazing Sinatra singer and remembered that I like Jazz. We had Bananas Foster and learned that dessert is not always about chocolate. I got out the watercolor paints from an art class I took ages ago and played with them. I worked on the 2 antique wooden ironing boards that I’m going to make pretty and hang in my living room. Besides the drink and dessert on Friday, I ate completely green, raw and whole.

Basically, I remembered what it was like to be just me and did as many of the things I like to do without traveling too far or spending too much money.

It was the Reddest weekend ever.

In Grace,

Kell