Jon Goes To Brooklyn

Jon, Bud and Fate, on the way to the dump on Saturday

I dropped Jon off at the train station at 9:30 this morning.  He’ll be in Brooklyn till Tuesday visiting his daughter Emma, her husband and his granddaughter Robin.

I decided to stay home to work and take care of the farm.

It’s been a while since Jon and I have been apart, even for a few days.  With three dogs and two cats in the house and all the animals outside, there’s lots of company.  But the house is sometimes too quiet without Jon here.  So I brought the speaker in from my studio so I can fill the house with music.

I don’t mind being alone.  I actually like and need it.   I’ve always preferred to be alone, rather than being around people who I don’t connect to.  For me, that’s the loneliest place.

But even just one day without Jon here, I realize how much I love talking to him.

I remember when we were first together, I felt like I wanted to tell him everything.  Like he would want to hear whatever it was I had to say, like he would understand.  Since having that feeling, I’ve heard other people say the same thing when they were in  love with someone.  I never felt it till I met Jon.  And it hasn’t changed.

I can’t wait to talk to him  tonight to tell him about my day and hear about his.

I sometimes think of Abigail Adams and how she and her husband John Adams wrote so many letters to each other.  Many of them were about political issues, but I also remember hearing how they would describe to each other the details of the everyday things they saw and experienced.

Now we can so easily send pictures and don’t need as many words, but I still like to be able to describe my feelings and thoughts behind the pictures.

Jon and I always seem to have lots to talk about.  Even though we both work from home, we spend a lot of time away from each other.     But we’re also always bringing each other our thoughts and ideas throughout the day.

For the next couple of  days, we’ll send a picture or text during the day, but we’ll get the whole story, all at once, at the end of the day.

I imagine gathering an armful of colors and words and images and feeling and bringing them to Jon, like a big bouquet of wildflowers, plucked from the moments of my day.


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