That In The Cave With A Roaring Fire Feeling

Samain                                                                                   Closing Moon

Tomorrow night Cafe Zentral with Tom and Roxanne. Next Monday with the class of 2005 at Allison’s. Thanksgiving at the Capital Grille with Anne. Then, the Nicollet Island Inn on December 15th. It’s both the holiseason and a time of farewell. I’m looking forward to all these times.

Our goal is to have all of the packing that we’re going to do done by Thanksgiving and that feels realistic to me, in spite of my last post. I’ve had a nap.

We have that in the cave with a roaring fire and a hunk of early bison roasting feeling. You know, animal skins snug around us, plenty of meat and berries in the pantry, a wintry landscape outside. No raiding the local grocery stores necessary for a reasonable time. A pleasure of humankind for the last fifty to a hundred thousand years.

Come to think of it, I guess that’s why meals together bring such warmth. That kind of conviviality goes way, way back.

A Bit of Whining

Samain                                                                             Closing Moon

Back to packing this morning, but the heart’s not in it. It’s not a reluctance to move on, not at all. Rather, it’s a weariness, evident today. Push, push, push. Out to Colorado, home, out to Colorado. Home. Now confused about location of home. The task seems impossible, even though I know it isn’t. We’re 85% packed and the movers will do at least half of the remaining packing. Just. Tired. Of it.

Not surprised I feel this way. And, I’m ok with it. I just hope it doesn’t last. Gonna be tough to move us if we’re not ready.

 

 

A Few Shots

Samain                                                                          Closing Moon

A few shots from my recent trip to Colorado. Not sure what happened to the one of the three mule deer bucks looking at me in our new backyard. They let me get very close.

Dining Room
Dining Room
Reading Area from Dining  Room
Reading Area from Dining Room
Brookforest Inn - our closest dining
Brookforest Inn – our closest dining
From grocery store parking lot
From grocery store parking lot
The Road to Minnesota
The Road to Minnesota

Not Expected

Samain                                                                  Closing Moon

10″ for sure. Maybe 12-14. A lot for a first snow. Ushering in a week of cold weather. Minnesota. Ah.

Yesterday when I visited the eye doc a couple a bit older than myself came in. They both had on black sports jackets, the same, with MSRA on the front. I didn’t think much about it until they went to the receptionist to check in and I saw MSRA on the back with the acronym spelled out: Minnesota Street Rod Association. Not what I expected.

Which brings up a regular occurrence. Trying to imagine what an older person was like during the 60’s. I know from looking at myself in the mirror that you can’t tell from a persons post medicare card appearance where they  stood in those days. Even the gray pony-tail crowd is as likely to be composed of veterans as ex-hippies and draft protesters.

Not many of us wear our enthusiasms so clearly as the hot-rodders gathered with me for our glaucoma check.