You won’t believe how many boxes I’ve already emptied and disposed of, but—oy vey! I have such a long way to go! Most of the boxes now sitting in the family room are full of books that can’t go anywhere until I get my new bookcase, and I refuse to order my new bookcase until this Covid-19 mess is over and they can deliver it already assembled and put it in place. I’m tired of heavy lifting. Both of us are.

I’m tired in general. I did reasonably well last week enforcing my work hours of 1-4 p.m. But I learned a couple of things: (1) It’s hard to say “no” to daughter when she wants to drop by in the afternoon despite my work hours, and (2) who am I kidding anyway? I’m so far behind in my work and have been so neglectful of marketing and writing and everything else that makes up an author’s business that a measly three hours a day ain’t gonna put a dent in anything. Besides, by the time I finish a morning of unpacking, cleaning, cooking, and/or taking care of things for Mom, I spend much of the afternoon yawning and wishing for a nap.

Things will get easier in time, I know that. After the boxes are emptied and gone, once the furniture is here and settled, and as soon as the curtains, rugs, and lamps are all in place, I can settle down. Right now, I’m just overwhelmed.

Add to it MSB’s serious case of restless leg syndrome, and you can see how we’re both exhausted. The doctor said his was a rare type of RLS and there isn’t much that can be done about it, but we’re trying various vitamins, oils, and minerals to hopefully ease it. The other night, he had to keep walking. He could stay down for maybe fifteen minutes, but then he’d have to get up and walk for twenty or so. On nights like this, he tries to sleep in the guest room, but what bothers him bothers me. If he can’t sleep, I don’t sleep well. The past couple of nights have been better, but I go to bed tired and wake up tired and go through my daily activities on the strength only God can give me. Certainly not my own.

But I tell ya something funny. God is keeping an eye on me, and He keeps me entertained through nature.

The other day, when it was so wonderful outside I had the windows open, my sweet Billy was out cleaning up the yard, and some of the neighborhood kids joined him. It was so cute—and he’s such a natural grandpa—that I had to get a picture. While I was taking it, a garden lizard somehow slipped past the screen and came inside. It seemed to be God’s way of getting me outside to meet the neighbors. I grabbed the lizard and took it out, letting it bite my pinkie finger and dangle from my hand to the ooohs and aaahs of the little ones. We met their mothers and talked with them awhile. The kids let the lizard get away, but he’d done the job the Lord sent him to do.

This morning, as I was trying to fight off a case of self-pity, I glanced out the window and saw a raccoon walking from the left side of the road to the right side. I blinked a few times. It was around 5 a.m., and I was operating on only one cup of coffee, but my head was awake enough to know that we live in town now. Did I really see what I thought I saw?

As answer to my question, God sent him back from right to left. Unquestionably. A raccoon. In my city neighborhood!

I used to love to watch them—from a safe distance—at our old house in the country, but this was absolutely unexpected. Then I was reminded that a creek runs behind the houses across the street, so it isn’t totally a miracle. But it cheered me considerably.

All good things come from God, and it doesn’t surprise me in the least that He would use His creation to uplift me and get me outside of myself. I’m still tired, but I’m not heavy-hearted. I’m in good hands. Returning to a writer’s life will come eventually. Meanwhile, I’ll keep an eye out for sneaky green lizards and scampering coons.