As I leave France and re-enter my daily life at the farmette, I have the idea that I am going to bring something fresh to the year ahead. Why travel far and wide if you dont come home determined to preserve something from your trip -- an idea, a new habit maybe, an acceleration in your language studies. Maybe all the above. But when I get off the plane in Madison, especially one that gets in as late as mine did, when I see all that needs to be done at home, and especially outside in the gardens, where rain once again has tripled the weed population and quadrupled the mosquitoes out there, when in my dazed stupor I finally have my fill (for now) of being next to Ed and go up to bed (at around1a.m.) and wake up by the once again rebelling circadian clock at 5 a.m., I am so dragged down that it's all I can do to work for a while outside, do a few laundry loads, bake some granola and then plump down on the couch, ignoring that earlier call to seize the moment and surge forth in some gallant attempt to retain the spirit of travel at home. I feel right now that I've retained nothing at all except a fuzzy head and a limp body that does not want to bike to Stoneman's for corn, or even bike to the mailbox, if truth be told.
Every year, a long flight leaves me more depleted the next day. I read a friend's post how after a long cruise, she developed something called mal de debarquement syndrome (a sickness and dizziness after disembarking from a long time on a boat). It. rang true to me. When I get off a plane, after even an 8 hour flight, I swear that the airport is moving underneath my feet. I imagine if I was in flight for longer I'd totally wack myself off balance even more! (Though I do practice balancing with eyes closed every time there is a wait of a few minutes, like for instance when there's a wait for luggage to be unloaded. People may stare as I sway and eventually topple to both feet, but I can't tell -- my eyes are, after all, closed! I'm getting very good at standing on one foot in this way for at least a minute, even while supporting a heavy backpack!)
Because being tired is not a state I'm used to, I always then test for Covid and almost always (like this morning) it's just a wasted test. It's not Covid. It's being 72 and having had a very full day yesterday.
But, after doing some minor weed pulling and cleaning up the two lily plants that are still flowering, albeit at reduced levels...
... and of course, after walking over to the barn to feed those American-French Bresse girls,
... I do put out a fresh tablecloth and scrounge up some bits and pieces of a breakfast (a must do for today: replenish supplies in the fridge!) and Ed comes down, and we have a wonderful handful of minutes once again enjoying the peace that comes with being on the porch on a beautiful day in late August.
(large jar of honey from Bee made it across the ocean!)
By the afternoon, I feel enough refreshed to go run errands. Get gas, drop off something at UPS, then Fed Ex (there to drop off a broken suitcase!), and yes, go to Stoneman's for corn for tonight's soup, though not by bike.
(Rosie the goat is back helping sell corn...)
And each time I pass a flower field, I pause and pull some weeds.
Amazing how quickly chores and routines can suck us in, so that a seemingly open ended day suddenly hasn't very many spaces left to give up. But then, I have always liked keeping busy. Today, tired but happily, I kept very very busy.
With so much love...
