Simple Woman’s Daybook

Outside my window… Dark, 31F. Snow still covers the ground fully and highly though I hear there is grass and even snowdrops (the bulb) appearing in other parts of the northeast.

I am thinking… about a lot and a little. Not so much thinking as feeling in a big blurry mess where one loss leads into another and back out again.

I am thankful for… health, my spouse, that doom and disaster sometimes come in manageable chunks.

From the kitchen… Well, I made the same thing we had last week on Tuesday: bowtie pasta with asparagus and snap peas, and I added toasted pine nuts and sauteed shrimp to it this time. And, the aroma of chocolate is wafting in because I made very good brownies.

I am wearing… jeans, a purple undershirt, that wool grey cableknit sweater with the ‘mended’ holes. Ask me again in a month or so.

I am creating… a tempest in a teapot, a mountain out of a molehill, anger and strife borne of frustration,  resentment, fear, mortality. Also, a memorial website for my dad.

I am going… to bed soon, with some NyQuil on board.

I am reading … Rene Girard’s Battling to the End (2007; transl 2010);  that same Joanna Trollope novel (Friday Nights), which I will finish tonight; Stealing Athena, an historical novel for bookgroup; and some Wall Street Journals from Jan. and Feb.

I am hoping… for a very clean MRI scan and that our (other) house sells soon

I am hearing… the humidifier, the dog drinking water in the kitchen, the spouse yawning and opening and closing cupboards in the kitchen, my sinuses running and my own cough and sniffles

Around the house… I just love this house. And now that the sun is warmer, the sunroom is starting to heat up, so I can leave the door and window between the kitchen and sunroom open, giving the sense that the house is more connected to the outdoors and even more spacious. The dog has been investigating the sunroom; I hope she realises it’s indoors.

One of my favorite things … is Indian food, but today the grocery cashier told me that his college roommate (years ago) smelled of curry and that has put him off it for life; he likes Mexican. Why did he tell me that story?

A few plans for the rest of the week: Last tyrants lecture on Thursday, nothing else that I know of.

Here is picture thought I am sharing…

Douglas Mountain (Sebago, ME), July 2009

(Lots of other women write these, too: The Simple Woman’s Daybook)

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