Samhain Waning Thanksgiving Moon
The night is great. Still. When you’re up at 2 am, back to bed around 5 and up at 11:00, then a nap at 2:30, up at 3:45 and its dark by 4. This is an almost northern night kind of schedule. Feels weird.
Kate’s gone to Fat Quarter Quilting for a Quilting Guild meeting. I don’t know if they have secret handshakes and pass along occult sewing tips or not, but I do know Kate enjoys going.
Out of synch. That’s what I feel.
Samhain Waning Thanksgiving Moon
Up at the crack of 11. Kate and I went down to Pappy’s cafe for breakfast/brunch. Pappy’s has a blue collar clientele and we got there just as the post church crowd came in, folks wearing suits for one time in the week, women with that fancy bag and new sweater, everyone looking serious and relieved at the same time, serious that they’d done their duty, relieved that its was over for another week. Faith is a complex network of acts and activities, some metaphysical and some purely physical. Dressing up and showing others you both know how and can afford to falls on the physical side. It reinforces, though, the critical importance of Sunday, of Christianity or Judaism or Islam. That reinforcement continues in prayer, reading of holy books, considering religious prescriptions and proscriptions. What we would call a closed hermeneutical circle, meaningful and profound from within, suspect and thin seen from without.
I’m about to head in for a nap, clear my thoughts with sleep.
Samhain Waning Thanksgiving Moon
Here I am, at it again. Don’t know why this damned tooth/jaw deal has interfered with my sleep this last two nights and not before, but there you are.
Got pretty serious there on the post below, so I’ll try to stay a bit lighter here in the dark.
Finished my Latin, english to Latin, yesterday, early, partly because I got up at 4 am or 5 or whatever. Went back to bed at 9, got up at 11:30. The whole day seemed off, sort of out of kilter. Now I’m up again, an insomniac spurred on by the loss of wisdom. Which, come to think of it, out to do it.
As Kate comes closer and closer to retirement, January 7th is her date, I can sense a change, a sort of gathering in, nesting beginning. I just ordered a few books on movies, for example, thinking we might use our Netflix account to watch movies together one night a week, a date but at home. We’ve also gotten Kate’s quilt operation set up in a sewing room, upstairs, her long arm quilter, downstairs where her sewing room used to be and her piecing table cum storage in the spot we once had a pool table.
We’ve spent a good bit of time, as I’m sure most do, on our retirement finances, a project not yet finished, with my pension numbers yet to come and Kate’s medicare part D, but we’ll finish before the end of December.
Given the adequate, but tight fit of our budget in the coming years, we’ll probably travel less, a thought that at one time would have jarred me, but that now I find manageable. Short trips to visit family, perhaps longer ones up north or down to Chicago, not quite so far away, so much money. We’ll save up for a trip or two to somewhere interesting: Churchill, Ontario, the Southwest, but cruises and foreign travel will be difficult.
In the growing season, of course, we have the bees, the orchard, the vegetable gardens and the flower gardens that we care for together. We’ll get into the city to the museums, theatre and music more than we have.
Mostly, though, we’ll enjoy each others company and live not a good deal differently from what we do right now.