wintering

No jaunts across the pond, heck, no major trips through Ohiostan, the generous snow that I haven't seen in two years made me unmotivated to drive too far, except to go to the Metroparks and hang out in the woods multiple times and skiing along the old canal with my friend's dog hooked to a belt loop, letting me glide along the trail. When I force myself outside, I feel invigorated in a way that summer doesn't do and the quiet of this world of water, trees, and sky recalibrates my soul to praise and meditate. When did I fall in love with evergreens so much?

 

So many pots of tea were consumed this week, with the exception of half a glass of wine on Christmas, no booze at all. So many good books read, good conversations had, and listening to tuneage and returning to the art room to make a first attempt at mosaic (which came out awesome, even if part of it fell off when I pulled it out of the mold).

I was almost asleep by the time the year changed over, but my landlady called me back on jetlag time and communication regarding the giant pile of debris in front of the garage being tantamount, somehow I mumbled incoherently through a conversation. She didn't recognize me when she came home, demanded to know what I was doing in her yard, which was awkward, because I have a key to her part of the house too, and I've lived there for a year now. I've been a good tenant though, and despite the occasional minor vexation it's been a good place.
 
It's been a year since I bailed from the almost-hood for the new digs, and it still feels liberating to walk somewhat freely after dark, to shed the fortress mentality that living within walking distance of several psych wards engenders. I survived election season with all friendships intact, and I like everyone a little better now that the whole business is over. Played some good games of softball, met new folks, feel like I live somewhere where I know and like my neighbors, and saw a lot of great live music. Getting old could be so much worse.