|Groundhog Day by Andrew Wyeth (and a close contender for Christina's World for my favorite Wyeth) captures the stillness and solitude of late winter on a farm and yet the warmer, brighter light of February.|
This day will go down as odd, no two ways about it. So, let me begin. I was up until 4am. This is not unusual. I was born a night owl and will probably die one. I am blessed to have a husband who is a morning person, that's for certain. He often feeds the kids breakfast and drives them to school. Maybe it is to make up for the years I ran the carpool for our daughter from our New Hampshire home and he stayed at home with our young boys after I was up to nurse them in the night. I don't know. But it works. [You might ask how a farmwife can possibly not be a morning person? Well, that's another blog posting. Let's just say that these late nights and wee hours of the morning tend to be a winter phenomenon. I'm convinced it is also genetic. My father, and his father, were both night people. It's in my blood.]
I was working on a project and just couldn't stop. The quiet of the night, the stillness of the house, the surrounding darkness, save for the computer screen. Are you with me? If you are a night person you will know this uninterrupted solitude to be a strange comfort.
|Image from www.JudyCox.net|
After my productive stretch of writing, and a bit of pre-sleep reading (no matter the hour, I read before bed), I slept from about 4am until 10, made some coffee, and did some channel surfing. I don't know why but I landed on "The Jim Bakker Hour" or some such. I thought, for a moment, that it was 1987. There he was, aged since Tammy Faye days, with a Tammy Faye-type woman next to him and another guy. They were all in bathrobes and talking about sleep bands and tips for conducive sleep. I thought the tips made sense but the sight of them in their bathrobes talking about sleep aids made me think I was in an alternative universe. Perhaps televangelism is kind of like that.
Mid afternoon I was tired from all of that writing, not enough sleep, and, well, not doing much of anything after a week of moving stuff around between buildings and sorting stuff out. So I tucked into bed with a memoir I've been reading [Just Kids by Patti Smith about her love affair and decades-long friendship with Robert Mapplethorpe––it won the 2010 National Book Award for nonfiction and I recommend it highly], finished it, and had a long nap. It was the kind of nap where I was so relaxed that I slept deeply and awoke refreshed. I also had a visit with a few old friends and family members and places that I've known. So a journey of sorts––the best kind of dreaming.
|No, there was no groundhog in our chili!|
You come back when you're ready!