Friday

If at night I'm the one who wakes up and worries imagined worries, Ed will be the one to wake up and methodically study all anyone needs to know about acquiring a new gas water heater. His handful of sleepless hours is more productive than mine.

And in that handful of hours, he comes across hints as to what may be ailing our (not that old) water heater and he goes downstairs and fixes it. And maybe it will not be the last fix, or maybe it will be the very last fix and the very last try to get the thing to perform already, but whatever the future may hold, at least this morning I wake up to a nice warm shower.

And sunshine pouring into our east room, a.k.a. (for this season) -- our breakfast room.





Fridays are typically slower days for me. I am my own boss then. I don't rush.

Today is not a typical Friday. Hearings on campus, meetings too, and an errand on State Street, means that I am on Rosie, scooting out sometime after the sun has already risen, but just barely.





Enough to throw gold on the old barn and the sheep shed by its side.





But it is cold and riding Rosie in near freezing temps is… invigorating. Maybe I didn't wrap enough layers around me, or maybe our blood is still boiling from the heat of the summer, but I remember thinking -- wow, when it hits 40 in the winter, it's cause for a celebration. Today it just feels cold.


Afternoon. It is a sweet time to be out on State Street: tomorrow, the adult world parties here in Halloween garb, but this day is for the kids. They're invited to walk along and grab candy from businesses handing out bucket loads of sugar.





Very charming, very adorable and for the most part, very bundled.

At home, Ed is sleeping off a night of water heater woes. Most of the time, it's easy to live with a person who is basically retired: in control of his own schedule, Ed is so often there when I need to talk, to go to Paul's, or to do a quick round of tennis. But at other times, maybe like tonight, when we're cycling in different timezones, it's not so easy. To a person on a work schedule, a free evening is a gift of time. To a person without one, an evening is like a morning -  is like any other hour of the day or night.

Now, where's that book I started on the flight last week and didn't have a chance to finish? Oh, I see. By the bed, on Ed's side. Hmm, he's read more of it than I have. 

Isis, go bother Ed. I'm busy trying to unwind.