Re-Reading

When I woke this morning, my first emotion felt was happiness/relief that I have a working generator again. I bought myself a wampum machine. It produces 8500 watts of energy. Next time there’s blackout, I’ll be camping in a Hilton.

I also felt good about my toil of yesterday. Yes, my Christmas day was devoted to yard work! I had that incinerator choking on Fir needles, cones and branches. It’s going to be a shitty day today so I’ll just chill, but tomorrow I can get back to clearing the yard of the incredible volume of storm detritus that fell around, and on, my house. The challenge will be clearing my studio roof of its forest. 

Last night I let the fire go out before I went to bed. I’m wood wiser this year than last. But during the night, a cold front arrived so this morning the house was pretty cold. I quite like sleeping in the cool air of the unheated cabin, but the first thing I do every morning is light the fire. This morning I lit a bonfire.

Bruce is planning his trip to Europe. Beth is renovating her home and going to Europe to meet Bruce. Edwin is doing some of the most interesting work of his career and Dwight has two incredibly interesting jobs working with visual art and is raising his daughter with Laura. The busy lives of my friends make mine seem mighty dull.

But, as surprised as I’ve been by my choice to live a reclusive life, I’ve never lost my appetite for this quirky little life I lead.

Yesterday, to celebrate the season self indulgently, I raised the temperature of my spa and at the end of the afternoon, after all my yard work, I had a long and wonderful soak. And then, much to my delight, I read.

The legacy of the blackout is a good one: My generator is fixed and I rediscovered the joy of reading. I was once a passionate reader but when I retired I devoted all my time to writing plays, a screenplay and two books (no; not novels) and I started to think of reading as how those who can’t write engage with words.

But I’m not writing any more. (And I’m definitely not missing it…just the money.) Plus, I’ve got a library card and I walk every Sunday with Amy, the head librarian. 

I’m reading a book I found on my shelf. I can’t remember where I got it. It’s titled Life After Life and it’s by Kate Atkinson. I know nothing of her nor of the book’s reputation, but I’m happily and thoroughly engaged.