Monday, December 20, 2021

eve of solstice

Remember when we all thought 2020 was the worst year ever and we would soon put all worries behind us?

Well now.

But in fact, 2021 gave the vast majority living here so much to be grateful for, including a rapid, coordinated response to Covid. Most of us benefited tremendously from the vaccination program -- the super quick distribution, the continued science that allowed us to get the booster just when we needed it so badly, the vaccination of most of our kids. All this was huge. [To say nothing of the political calm that we have been given. No one can deny that no matter how divided we remain, the screaming from the top and therefore from the bottom has receded substantially. If noise ruins hearing, then I would bet in 2021 everyone's hearing has improved tremendously and I say this as an older person who especially values the calming of the decibel output around me. From the CDC: Noise above 70 dB over a prolonged period of time may start to damage your hearing. Loud noise above 120 dB can cause immediate harm to your ears. Now isn't that the truth!]

I have a calm day today. I was to drive down to Chicago with my older girl, but we postponed that due to some small snafus that sometimes happen when you have a newborn. We'll try again the day after tomorrow. Practically, this means that today is suddenly uncomplicated, but the days before Christmas will be a bit of a whirl. That's okay. I can handle holiday whirl!

We are today on the eve of winter solstice. Whereas in June we begin losing precious light from our day's routines, in December, we start getting it back. Today, on the eve, the sun rose at 7:26 and it will set at 4:25. Tomorrow, on the day of this year's solstice, it will rise in Madison again at 7:26. And here's the thing: the sun will then set at 4:26. People forget that solstice happens at a moment in time. For us, the reversal begins tomorrow at 9:59 a.m. and by afternoon we will already have claimed back a minute of light. So it's not actually true that the so called shortest day is really the shortest. Oftentimes the day before (today!) holds that honor.

But here's where science and perception collide: this day may be the true shortest one, but on the other hand, the sunshine made us feel as though we suddenly jumped into a wealth of more light.

(the hens, racing to follow me)




 

Breakfast, with a Northlands Keap candle, was positively bursting with light!




(Candle continues to guide me into the afternoon and evening.)




Thought of the day? Well, I was thinking about the upcoming days and how I may feel obliged to make resolutions. It's a frustrating exercise because let's admit it: older people do not change their habits and ways with ease. For instance, once long ago I may have worked hard on being more funny in person and in writing (I like the idea of making people laugh), but these days I know that that bird has flown. I cannot be funny. I have worked with words all my life, yet I cannot generate a sentence at the snap of my fingers that would make you hiccup with mirth. Not only am I not Seinfeld, I'm not even as quick to spot the ridiculous as is my three year old grandson. He can make you laugh. I cannot.

So what's left? I suppose you can always tell yourself to be better at all that you already have been doing. That's terribly uninspired. Let's see if I can be more original. How about this: eat fewer vegetables. Ed and I probably eat too many. 

And so I go round in circles, looking for ways to set goals for change in the new year, even though I am pretty content with my wee corner of the universe right now. [I could do without the pandemic, but I cannot fix that one. I do mitigate as best as I can, but I am human and I am capable of succumbing to temptations. For example, in Chicago, I entered a local food shop, which broke my record of going 21 months without entering a grocery store. I figured that I HAD gone into pastry shops in Paris so why should this small Chicago specialty foods shop be different, but then I know we always seek to justify our actions to make ourselves feel better about the path we followed.]

And so for now, the young families are doin' okay, I have a wee Christmas tree and I am for that and many other reasons, grateful and content.

With love...