Sometimes when you're on a roll, as I was with the selvage jacket, you suddenly roll right into a ditch and - phfft! - dead stop. That's what's happened this week. Long days at work, so that I get home later than I like and am always hungry, because I don't really eat lunch -- a 90 calorie container of yogurt is NOT sustenance, it's just a gesture to recognize the tum-tum has its needs too. So I eat when I get home and, feeling a big tired, I give myself time to read quite a lot and sip a slow cup of tea at the end. Then it's DARK! We're two whole months away from the winter solstice but it's getting dark earlier and earlier -- I know the time will change but that doesn't make much difference in these dark days when there's very likely to be cloud covers.
Well, being a farm girl, born and bred, when it's dark the chickens go to roost and the day is essentially over -- you know, we get older and return to the roots of our earliest training, extraneous layers tend to peel away and we get down to the essence. If you don't believe me, you're under 65 and haven't carefully observed those who are in the over 65 category. Not that we don't learn a lot by living our lives, but it's the paint on the canvas. Without the canvas it would be so many flakes of pigment scattering away in the wind. ... Hmm, I've got this far with this metaphor and haven't thought it through further. It's best to stop -- perhaps this should have been a post on my other blog. But then I have a different subject for it this evening. Come check it out too.
A WILD THANKSGIVING - *A THANKSGIVING TRUCE* *THEODORE ROOSEVELT* *FROM POLK MAGAZINE* *Library of Congress* *HAVE A WILD THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!*
2 days ago