As I posted elsewhere, Heaven's fingerprints are all over this day. I awoke about 45 minutes after the alarm should have gone off. Oops. Was clean and dressed and out the door with my breakfast, lunch and knitting in less than half an hour. Made it to work safely and on time notwithstanding the damp streets. Worked steadily all day.
Hit Bueno on the way home. Ate dinner sitting up in bed, Percy Jackson #5 in one hand. Washed my hands and worked on The Albatross for awhile. Read some more. Finished a small component of the stealth project for Christmas. Worked on The Albatross some more. It is now 10:45, and my hands are tired but I fear my brain is not.
I made sure the alarm is set this time. Phone is charging. Crafty stuff is put away. CPAP has sufficient water. I've read my Sunday School lesson. Prayed about various people. A coworker's husband is about to step through the veil. I pray that he will live as long as life is sweet for him. (That's what I prayed for Beloved, in those last weeks and days.)
This is a tender time of year. I love the growing light, and the memory of Christmas. I was listening to Pandora last night on the way home, and an old Dixie Chicks song popped onto my station: Travelin' Soldier. I'm still mad at the Dixie Chicks for their lead singer's tacky comment in London in early 2003 (which is when I stopped buying their music, and I eventually sold all three of their CDs when I was low on cash several years ago). But they made beautiful music, and that song was one of their best. It was a favorite of LittleBit's. I was seven years away from meeting Beloved when first I heard it, and I had entirely forgotten its existence until last night. The keening chorus opened up something inside of me. Instantaneous sobbing for the length of each chorus, calm bemusement during the verses. I don't think I was crying for myself, although I'm pretty sure I'm "never gonna hold the hand of another guy." No desire to.
Sorry, y'all, you are getting brain droppings tonight. I'm hoping for another productive day tomorrow, and I am looking forward to another quiet night at home.
I've been thinking a little bit about retirement off and on this week. Trying to decide if I want to retire at age 70, with twenty-three years of service, or see if I can hold out two more years and make it an even twenty-five. Fourth of July 2024 might be a pretty good target for declaring my independence, all things considered.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!