August 3, 2009 – Rose and I are adjusting well to the absence of the sheep and the donkeys (I can’t say I ever loved sheep, but I was very fond of the donkeys). We go for walks, ride the ATV, chase slingshot balls and frisbees. She is staying close to me while I wrote (along with Frieda and Lenore and Izzy, so my study is crowded right now).
  I am grateful for the change to learn, grow and change. One person wrote me concerned that change was an addiction for me. My therapist and I (I love that phrase) have a different notion. We think I am finally growing into myself, getting comfortable with who I am. A partner, writer, photographer. That’s a lot to work on.
  My life has changed, and I look ahead to a time when it does not change as much. When I can sleep several nights in a row, make friends who stick, deepen the peaceful parts of myself, live more simply, take more time, have more patience, have confidence in my ability to manage life well. I am getting there.
  In the meantime, I am learning I don’t have to have a big farm to be a writer, a father, a friend or an artist. That I can share life with someone I love. That dogs can be happy without herds of sheep or other animals. That I can learn how to write fiction, and take on new challenges like children’s books.
  For what is life without challenge, anyway? Without difficulty, hardship or change? To me, it is a kind of death, the first one.