booked up

I felt this morning like I did on the days I still taught: so much to do, so little time to do it in. Like a working person, with a lecture to prepare and house chores to finish up. And snow to clear -- to the barn, to the car. And a partner who is going to want to ski, and a granddaughter who most assuredly will want to play.

Help me out here, I'm drowning!

But, on the other hand, it sure is a pretty day. With a gentle snow and temps still just below freezing, you could say it is a near perfect winter weather.

A bit later, as I wait for Ed to finish up some of his machine design talk on Zoom, I glance over at an article in the paper- - one that appeared last week actually, except I was too busy then to read it. I'll link you to it, but I think the title says it all: Three Steps to Age Exuberantly. The thing is, I know how to age exuberantly! It's so obvious: stop with the whining and get on with your projects. Search for happiness in your reality, even as it may have elements of sadness. Talk to younger people, preferably not about your sore knee. Learn from them. Cook for your grandkids. Yes, yes, it's all there, written down for you by an 86 year old Swedish woman who had previously written a book about how you should declutter your home before you die so that your kids wont have to deal with your mess when you're gone. Amen! Wisdoms galore! 

And yet, here I am, feeling like the day is running away from me and I am not feeling all too exuberant about it. 

Eventually, Ed joins me for breakfast and the tide turns. He asks if he can help with farmette chores and my impatience with the day fades. We've got this! We're in control!

Very soon after, we go skiing in our county park. I wait at the bottom of the hill for him to catch up and he barrels into me and then topples into a snow drift. I had to laugh. It was, after all, sort of my fault (I didn't get out of the way quickly enough). And of course since we are ancient people, he couldn't easily get up. It took a few mins to figure it all out. And that was funny too.

And the snow keeps falling and the forest looks like it's happy to receive this blanket of white stuff.

Beautiful snow...

The world seems like such a pretty and welcoming place. Cold, but isn't that what gives color to our cheeks? Isn't it just so bracing? We ski harder and my activity rings on my watch close and I am so delighted with the way things are going!

In the afternoon  I have Snowdrop and again I groan at the absence of time. I should take her skiing. Skating. Snow fort building. But there isn't time for that. She wants food and she wants to read. We do both.

(She also wants to clobber Ed. I leave them to it: they have their own game going which I do not fully understand but it makes them both laugh and that's a good thing.)

 

And now I zip her home, and I zip myself over to the Oregon Public Library for the scheduled Like a Swallow presentation and reading. I am absolutely certain that no one will come on a cold and snowy day. In the evening no less. Wouldn't you rather stay home and eat veggie soup rather than brave the elements to listen to someone ramble about her childhood in Poland?

But people are a curious species and I do have quite a nice group of readers in the room and more watching online, and it is, in fact, a beautiful evening! Well, at least I thought so!

I go home deeply satisfied and happy. And I eat soup late, very late, with Ed, and at the end of the day I can't help but feel... exuberant! Great word, don't you think?

With so much love...