In the middle of the week in the middle of the afternoon I curl up under a blanket, turn on the TV, and watch a Hallmark movie. Once I longed to have time and opportunity to do such a thing. Then, when my time was my own, I made myself too busy to consider it.
We put up our three non-traditional trees. I spend the dark afternoon in the soft glow of one of them, listening to the King’s College Choir and working through edits on my manuscript. It’s time well spent. Today, more of the same—minus the manuscript. The house is winter-cozy even if it doesn’t yet feel or look
. . . the more you study delight, the more delight there is to study. Ross Gay, The Book of Delights I hit the wall again, spending the afternoon on the sofa then flitting in and out of wakefulness as Gerry and I watch a program on TV after supper. This morning I’m tired before
Another long day canning tomatoes and by the time I lift the last bubbling jar from the pressure canner I’m spent. But there’s still the garden that needs watering, and the flowerpots are thirsty, and Gerry promises a caramel sundae in the mix. That’s enough to entice me to change my clothes, freshen up, and
I putter around in my kitchen putting lunch dishes in the dishwasher and wiping counters. I empty the coffee pot and grind beans for the next morning’s must-have elixir. I snip Thai and Genovese basil leaves from plants growing in my Aerogarden, putting them in dishes for later use. I rub my thumb and forefinger on thyme
It starts to feel like it has always been winter. Cabin fever sets in. I bring some tulips home and arrange them in a vase. A bit of spring on my table. In silent solitude I sit with my camera and find peace among the waxy petals. Later, when I take the Yorkie outside I
“...and the evening was so beautiful, that it made a pain in my heart, as when you cannot tell wether you are happy or sad; and I thought that if I could have a wish, it would be that nothing would ever change, and we would stay that way forever.” Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace We