Happiness is:

Accomplishment:

Today I finally unpacked what started out as four 25 pound bags. Because of the luggage limit, Chris bought 2 giant bags and Kelly repacked everything into them. Two 50 pound bags, on the dot. Exactly. Kelly managed to get them here to Costa Rica. God knows how, since she couldn't lift them. Maybe the world takes care of pretty women. Nice women. Kind women. Yep.

Tools:

I was looking for a stapler, sure that was something I wouldn't have left behind. Of course, I couldn't remember what I did pack. I had a vague recollection of art supplies and household tools. Such as my favorite lifetime tool, the vise grips. Nope, no vise grips, but pliers and an adjustable wrench. (I would have called it a monkey wrench, but I listened to Wendall in my head and heard adjustable.)

Screwdrivers, nails, nails of all sizes, cutting knives and a large variety of blades.

Memories:

All the kids' old letters, and mine, when I still wrote letters. To, and from, Purdue, Korea, the Philippines, India, assorted cities in the US.

Copies of my published pieces. Old stories, poems, etc. I haven't looked at the rest of the written stuff yet.

Surprises:

Band-aids; hundreds of band-aids. Well, many band-aids. (I just accepted the spell checker's version of the spelling. I have no idea.) Bars of soap, that's the one thing I wonder about. Why did I take up space and weight, with something I could buy anywhere?

Art supplies:

Blank canvasses, maybe 40 or so. Brushes, paints, stencils, templates.

My collection of postcards, started by Linda Wisler, of old women. Old photos of mother's family, some I don't even know, but can use for art. Small stuff now. Also, the paintings that, at the end, I couldn't throw away. I was really glad to see them and wish I had the ones I burned. I wish I had Rocinante.

Work:

I was working on the balcony today and it was pretty cool and I think I could make some big stuff out there. right above the street, over traffic, people, shops, the soccer field, I love all the activity. I think I always wanted to live above the shop. Now I do. Sometimes today I felt so happy I could have flown. That level needs to be brought down a little to be able to work. To sit still. But I get a lot done in that mood.

Music: I'm playing Tchaikovsky on the computer now and it makes me feel happy. His music always made me feel good. Real.

Being around people, but separate, parallel play:

The two guys who work here were working all day on the balcony, talking and laughing with each other, and it was like having the kids play quietly outside.

Helpers:

One of the guys hung a mirror for me.

Rain:

All the windows an doors are open and it is raining. It is dusk and the people are going home from work, heading into their day off. Today is Saturday;, most people here work Saturday. And 10 hours a day. I think this kind of day, cooler than usual, feels like approaching winter, Christmas, (no, Thanksgiving, it is happier, without the weight of Christmas) because it is dark so early. I keep interiorly expecting winter to come.

Anticipation:

I got the guest bedroom all done, bed, lamp, clean bedding, towels, curtains and a mirror on the wall. All it needs is people.

I guess, when I'm feeling good, everything is happiness.

It has been a good day.

And yet:

After I had unpacked everything, cleaned the guest room and had it ready, there is a feeling of--disappointment, regret, lack, because although all these things are welcome, and remind me of my old life, what is missing is still missing and will always be missing. I could dwell on this and cry all night. But I think I won't. It would do no good. It all would still be gone.

I did not find the stapler. I would gladly trade three bars of Zest for a good stapler.