domestic POV

Tonight I watched D mow the lawn while I planted golden thyme, spicy hot oregano and parsley in my herb garden. I cut trimmings from each and made bangers with new potatoes and corn on the cob for dinner. The cool fall air permeates the house. There is much to learn about this area, and soon enough I will be on my own to do so. I wonder what it will be like to be here without D. If the sounds at night will frighten me. The blackness of the bedroom, without any light pollution, could be comfort or isolating. The house, with its endless boxes to still be unpacked, will eventually be empty. It is all promising. It is all riding the cusp. I am allowing my life to tell me what mood to be in instead of making the decision to enjoy it on its own. It is something I dislike about myself. It is something I am good at.