I try to start each day with quiet time at the slide-out door, candles lit to provide light as I watch for the dawn and the rising of the sun turning the naked tree golden.
I read poems by Mary Oliver and other inspirational works, write in the Gratitude Journal and the main journal, make coffee in the French press, always filled with gratitude at what it takes to have this cup of coffee – the trees grown on another continent, the workers who tend the trees and harvest the beans, the process by which beans are packaged and transported to the continent, the state, the town where I live. And the process by which a French press is made and how it has come to be in my kitchen. And coconut milk from coconuts grown on trees thousands of miles away. And what about the honey – the bees, the flowers, the beekeepers, and those who are responsible for packaging and delivering honey to my location. I could go on about the water and the device used to heat the water, the skill of the potter who made the coffee cup, and so on. I am indebted to possibly hundreds of people, as well as the earth, the sun, and the rain. Having a good cup of coffee is not something to be taken lightly.
Newly fallen snow provides a few opportunities for photos, and it is good to get out for a few minutes, to tromp around and feed the wild birds, mostly juncos and doves, but also ravens, finches, and the occasional flicker. A walk takes us to the old church, which doubled as the community center in the 1890’s (if I have my dates correct).
Every day I try to discard something – give it away, take it to 2nd hand store, or toss it into the trash. Often it is just something small like an old cassette tape that I know I won’t listen to again. It is more about the process of letting things go, which has always been hard for me, but it gets easier with a steady practice of it.
I edit, send agent queries for Princes and Priests, write blogs, send texts with photos to family and friends… The days slide by so quickly I can scarcely capture them in a journal or with a few cell pics.
As the days go by, Clifford spends hours and hours in the lab. We also get the CI quarterly newsletter out, which is a big item to take care of before leaving.
The snow melts and preparations are made for travel, including a storage rack on the back of Cougar.
I have decided to write a 2018 letter and make greeting cards this year. Our move to Utah and our travels this past year might be of interest to family and friends. I use old prints for the cards, some taken with film camera as far back 1995. It is a big job getting the software and printer in action again, but I hope recipients enjoy getting a real card in the mail.
And then more snow. It is fun to decorate the bush outside our front door, but we had not expected this much snow in December,
We watch the weather closely, and our departure is delayed as we see storms forecast that will cross our route making travel unsafe. We had thought we’d be in Arizona for Christmas, but the day is spent quietly at home, lighting a candle for Christmas Eve and watching the snow falling, wondering if we might not make it out of Monticello.
In the morning, I am enchanted with the loveliness of snow-laden trees before the breeze comes up, but wondering when (or if) we are going to find our way clear to leave this winter.
It is December 30th before we finally make our get-away. It is 13 degrees and the landscape is snowy, but the highways are clear. We finish packing, say good-bye to our place, and by mid-morning we are on our way to Arizona where winter is more tolerable.