the new world.

Reclined in my old chaise lounge listening to crickets and Adagio of Dvorak's New World, neither of which I ever tire. After an exciting half hour of chasing around the house, a very content little cat's curled under my arm, her nose tucked against my wrist. Purring is an understatement. If cooing is possible, Shaniqua is cooing.

It's hard to imagine why this quiet, solitary life has been so hard to accept. It's good hearing what my own head has to say given some space and silence. It's nice to get in with hammer and drill and make a place my own, to fill it with Nag Champa and cooking smells. (Today I tried my hand at orange cornmeal biscuits with vanilla peaches-and-cream; not half bad.)

It is, still, lonely. I haven't hugged anyone since I arrived nearly three weeks ago. I'm still thirsty for familiar voices. But I know how it happens - how people grow slowly into your life, how you never know quite where they'll come from but they do. I know it takes patience, an open heart, and in the meantime you learn to be your own good company. You take care of yourself with what makes you feel alive and loved. Thankfully, I'm pretty damn good company. :)

I'm surrounded by good people too, people who are strangers now but won't stay that way. Tonight I had dinner with friends I've seen a few times; I'm starting to learn their habits and ways of speaking. I rode bikes home with a new friend and found we had lots in common. And at school I'm in a class of smart, cool women (and three equally-cool men), strong-minded, lively students who are even more fun when they're not working.

This new life stuff takes time, but there are many doors open to me. I know how to support myself until I have close supporters around me, and the foundations are already made. I miss my loved ones, but I will be all right here. Just, you know, don't forget to call me now and then.