A moment in time

Here I am. My rambunctious puppy starkly barks behind me, distracting me from updating my music library. I let out a sigh of indignation and rise from the piano bench I am using as a computer chair and proceed to the large, choppy, iron-barred door. Sliding the latch rather awkwardly, I step out into the sunshine lit, nearly-spring afternoon and shoo the yelping form beside me to the bright field and into liberation, from his bladder, I presume. Climbing the couple rough stone steps and craning my neck to see if the neighbour’s truck was there or not, I walk to the field. Bronson is leaping, chewing, bouncing and tinkling on everything. I stand, slightly warmed by the sunshine, but with cold fingers on our little piece of field beside the highway. My left foot reminds me of my fallibility as is explodes in stabbing pains along the suspected fracture of my lateral cuneiform. I hobble back inside to a cave of sorts; it is my den in which sunshine flows in from the outside world, through small, droughty, single pane windows. I have adorned them with forgotten, packed-away pieces that were probably unwanted gifts. From old Christmas window hangers to garage sale stained glass pictures. They are treasures to me. Old curtains, birthday decorations, extra icicle lights, and odd knick knacks: all are put into use. I have bits of carpet and old lace...things, all hanging or covering some part of something! The cardboard structure took a lot of searching and box-diving to construct. I cleaned nearly the entire basement just shifting clothes to collapse boxes for the walls of my ‘room’.