Tuesday

I went back in time today. This is easy to do when you're 70: you have many years to work with. You already know that I've gone back to my childhood extensively. Pick up a copy of Like a Swallow -- it's all there. Or, all that's fit to print! This morning, I went back to a time that rarely makes an appearance these days on my radar screen and even more rarely appears here on the pages of Ocean -- the time when I was married and living a life of a parent/lawyer/spouse/cook/etc. I rarely mine those years for Ocean content. With good reason! I like the quiet that for the most part mists over the specifics of that era. Too, my life took a very new and novel twist just about the time I began to blog. I met Ed, eventually I moved to the farmhouse. You could say that Ocean is about what happens after year 50. Not before.

Nonetheless, today I went back and pulled some of that content from the past into the present: I received a breakfast invitation from a friend who is married to not only my ex's old colleague, but also if not married, then certainly connected to a whole circle of friends who were once part of my world, but who, after my split from married life, faded into the horizon. You could say that it was a breakfast of a couple of old friends who, by virtue of being friends for different reasons in the past, are now becoming completely new friends, because we are making an effort to rebuild everything from this new platform, decades later.

Confusing? Let's then get to the specifics.

Morning chores reminded me that we are still in February. It is nippy out there!

No breakfast at the farmhouse. I'm off to my downtown meetup.

(fog over Lake Monona hides the Madison skyline)

 

My morning meal host prepared a splendid quiche (on top of fruits and croissants). This was no ordinary breakfast. It felt regal. Lovely setting, downtown, in a home that was in a high rise. It may well have been the first time I visited anyone who lived in a Madison high rise, with a view no less, though today's fog made that a rather opalescent experience. Here, take a look.

People sometimes tell me that I am insanely over-scheduled. That I move too fast between too many things. In fact, I don't miss more free time so much as I miss paying attention to those around me who don't make it into the immediate lineup. In other words, I admit that I do not put aside enough time for my friends. (Those who live far away actually hear from me much more often than those who live nearby, because it's far easier just to Zoom or to schedule a trip, than it is to make time for a morning or evening out with pals.) Today, as I sat at the table and talked to two very special women, I thought (not for the first time, but with greater intensity!) -- I need to see these people more often. 

The fog stayed with us a long time. The good side of this? I felt like the world was hidden in a dome of icy crystals. A perfect excuse not to venture out again until it was time to pick up the grandkids! Oh, now the sun comes out! Well, too late. Besides, it's still cold, their jacket-less bodies notwithstanding!

 

 

Lots of reading today again. What can I say -- the books are good, the farmhouse is cozy.

And it's equally cozy in the evening, when Ed and I finally settle into our couch routine. Did you have a good day? -- he asks me, I ask him. 

With so much love...