climbing

It's a good analogy I think: I have the image of myself digging out of a mess I found myself in and climbing to some higher space. And I make improvements as I go along. First and foremost -- to my sleep. This night, I added another hour to what I've had going the past week. That I'm not yet at my destination goal of seven hours tells you how low I sunk to in the days of the move.

I promised my friend that I'd spend at least 45 minutes doing nothing and I did that this morning. In bed, just looking out on the sky. And I thought to myself: I can actually spend the whole morning doing... nothing!

That felt weird. I got up and fixed breakfast instead. 

I decided I liked, for now, eating at the kitchen island. This time with flowers.

And speaking of flowers or more generally nature, I am hearing through the open balcony door the sound of birdsong. Not clear and crisp, but there nonetheless. American Robin, Cardinal -- the usual suspects. I look out and I do see so many trees! I realize how spoiled I am. They dont feel right, here in the land of parking lots and corporate headquarters and hotels of the kind you find at the edge of every American city. I remember feeling this way when I lived in New York. I'd want to go out to the country for the day on, say, a Sunday. But what is the country exactly? Is it when you cross the river and you see more trees? Even though tall apartment buildings pop out around you? Is it Bear Mountain State Park -- just a half an hour upstate from the city, after crossing the George Washington Bridge? The park where half the city seems to empty out, to make use of the large public pool there in the summer? None of this felt natural to me. In New York, there was no escape. Trapped in an urban sprawl that continued forever. Here, it's different of course. I could walk my way to any number of nature preserves. And, I remind myself, out my windows are all those trees...

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Ed calls. He picked a bucketful of tomatoes and is continuing with the freezing operation. This is funny of course. I used about a gallon bag a week when I cooked for us. The freezer now has upwards of 40 gallon bags. Will he make chili out of all those tomatoes? We shall see.

I pay bills, set up online accounts, take care of paperwork. And then I think about what Ed told me: gorgeous, write your novel. The world needs your novel.  He uses the funniest words to support my writing projects, but they do make me smile, because sense his sincerity. And I tell myself -- maybe tomorrow I'll reopen my writing files.

But today I take a walk. Just to explore nature that comes close to where I now live. I choose Pheasant Branch Conservancy. The closest trail in that wooded park is an 8 minute drive from the Edge. (I could have gone to Owen Woods which has more of an up and down, and is also 8 minutes, though in the other direction, but I know Owen like the back of my hand and Pheasant Branch is fairly new to me -- Ed and I have walked there maybe twice. Since my life has just taken a sharp turn into the unknown, it seems appropriate to go with the new.)

(the creek)

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Tuesday is Snowdrop day and she always finds this to be a special time. 

 

 

 

We read, she reads, she eats. 

 

 

 

We dont quite have the lengthy car ride to review life's pressing issues, but still, I get a sense of where the girl's head is at.

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Evening: I defrosted some shrimp -- to cook up with broccoli and farmette garlic. It's my first use of the stove -- electric. Possibly my least favorite for controlling cooking temperatures, but still, it's a fine transition to whatever comes next. 

 I do a lot of solo restaurant dining. When I travel, it's just me, alone, in that eatery packed with jovial pairs and groups of friends. I dont mind it. But preparing food for myself? That's a different story. I dont much care then if the flavors are right, if the presentation is good, if there are ingredients missing. Dinner is not special. It's just a meal that fills you up because you're a bit low on fuel and your limbs are dragging. Maybe I should change that? Try harder? I order the book "Cooking for One," though I doubt that it will transform me. In eating, older people have very fixed habits.

Tomorrow, kids are being picked up by parents. Me? Now when do I ever announce what happens next! (As if I knew...) Ask me then. And sleep well tonight!

with so much love...