Dear Peter

It’s been five weeks since you passed on. I can’t say things are easier, that I haven’t made some poor decisions. There are so many times in a day when I have needed your help, advice, and a hug.

We lost some chickens to either a fox or a raccoon or both. We are having an awful heat wave and drought, I couldn’t get the winterizing boards off the chicken coops and I was afraid the birds would die of the heat. They were panting at night in the coops. So I left the doors open one night, I know, so stupid. Two of them were taken by a predator.

The hens were really freaked, wouldn’t go near the coops, and a predator got four of them the next night.

Travis has now taken down the winterizing boards, but the hens are so spooked that I could only get 2 into the coop. Two of them chose to be in the blacksmith shop and one is nesting in a tree.

I’m sorry. I know how much you loved your birds. And I have failed utterly to protect them.

Your garden however is thriving. I think you’d be pleased. The dahlia’s and lilies are blooming, I picked two Cherokee Purple tomatoes this morning, the earliest we’ve ever had tomatoes. Little watermelons are growing in the patch, the herbs are plentiful, and the dill is so vigorous it looks like the plant version of a standing army.

Yes, your four cannabis plants are doing well too. I wish I had paid more attention to your dutiful care. I am now resorting to Google to learn about cannabis grow. I feel a little over my head.

Sometimes I sit, rock myself back and forth, self soothe the anxiety. I get why people drink at times like this or hit the bong.

Sometimes I want to disappear. Sometimes I want to escape into another world, a movie, or a streaming show binge. Anything not to feel all this, all the time.

I am overwhelmed most days, even by the simple tasks. Then I get angry with myself. You know the ole: Buck Up and Deal With It.

Perhaps the most uncomfortable part is: it’s all about me. Sitting with all these feelings. Embarrassed by them, at the effect of them, unable to stuff them in a steamer trunk and forget about them for a while.

The dogs are a great comfort. I miss hearing you sing to them. I wish you were here.