After doing something

(My spell-check is in Spanish-that's not entirely on purpose-so everything is currently "misspelled".)

Had to go shovel manure after work.  We received a truckload for the garden last week, this was the first free time I've had, and it's supposed to rain tomorrow, so today seemed like as good a time as any.  My arm felt good enough to be able to both use a shovel to lift, and to move a wheel barrow; past few years it hasn't, so that's a plus.  Did some weeding for good measure, and turned some soil.  When I got home later, I saw that everyone is supposed to have begun working the plots as of April 1.  I should send out a reminder.  I finally have time to read my manual.  Someone complimented the meeting I ran.

Walk over to get a burrito, and visited the neighbor's chickens on the way back.  I like listening to chickens "talk", I find it really peaceful.  Went back to pick up my weeding to carry home, walked to bus stop, only to get there right as the bus was speeding past.  My feet didn't hurt too bad, so I walked home.

It was near sunset, the sky a pale gray with a dull peach along the horizon.  Silent.  Cherry trees blazing white in the dimming light.  Flowers bursting out everywhere: winter will be over.  The scent of vegetation.  In the silence, the buzz of a bee circling me is like a distant engine: loud and unexpected, and then just as suddenly it's gone.

I was calmer by the time I got home.  Still, I told him, via text, it upset me, the impersonal nature, the indifference to seeing me after two weeks.  Maybe not diplomatically.  Been the same cycle for months.  I'm tired of being his yo-yo.  He wants a relationship, he disappears.  He doesn't want a relationship.  He does, sorta', he disappears.

It's not the end of the world.  I like myself.  Whatever happens, I'll live.