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8
Jan 19

Sometimes I run early, sometimes I run later

The days are getting longer, somehow. I know this intellectually, but it never seems like this at this time of year. Maybe it’s better if the days are longer than the night. We’ve probably thought that for generations. Because we can see and work and play and its just less dangerous.

I read a book about this, about what people did during the dark hours before electricity. It could be dangerous. It was a different world. You could be romantic about this; there were long nights on the moors. You could be practical; candles were precious. You could be poetic; you still look up at the stars and name the constellations. You could be fearful of this. People could ride their horse off a cliff they would see, or get mugged or drown in a pond.

But that’s about the dark. No one ever writes about the gloaming.

Sure they write about the gloaming. The Brits and the Scots write poetry on it. But maybe they don’t write enough about it. The word can be traced to Proto-Germanic, Old Norse or Old Frisian. Depending on which one of those you like, the original meaning could be different things. Some of them are fierce or triumphant or sad and lonely, at least in a modern connotation. Maybe more than one is right, which happens a lot in the evolution of languages. The word could come from different things because it means different things because there is a lot of darkness out there, below that line of the light. It means a lot of different things.

It meant, tonight, that I could run fast, but I could also run slow. It was about being warm, but wishing I’d worn my gloves. It meant I could feel great for four miles, that my feet or my knees or my lungs didn’t hurt, which was the only gift of the day. It meant I could run hard, run angry, without running any faster. It could also mean I knew I shouldn’t run five or eight or 10 miles, like I briefly considered, but wisely dismissed. The word never means wisdom, but maybe it should. That present participle look, that -ing, should hold a lot.

It only meant that no matter which way I ran, I was going to run farther into the darkness. Even if the days are getting longer.


7
Jan 19

A very, very, very, very, very, very good girl

Allie, The Black Cat.


2
Jan 19

Already, for a moment at least, this is my year

We had ribs last night, and company. And all of that was grand. We also had brussels sprouts, which served the dual function of covering greens and my annual brussels sprouts intake.

Most importantly we had black eyed peas and no one else wanted any. So these all became mine:

I don’t know what the rest of the year or even most of this week has in store for me. Perhaps this is the high water mark. Maybe not, but last night, over ribs and peas, that seemed just fine.


1
Jan 19

Happy New Year!

Resolutions should be built upon. We are resolute. Since we’re all better at some resolutions than others it only makes sense to think of them as a continuation.

So I’m resolved.

Say it right the first time.
Write it right the second time.
Focus your presence.
Become more quietly assertive.

May as well keep working on earlier ones, too. They are no less valuable because we have changed calendars.

2018:

Be more joyous.
Be a better example.

2017:

Be more thoughtful. Help more. Be more cordial, courageous and kind.

Read more. Write more. Shoot more video. Take better photos. Work better.

Make two new friends. Find three new hobbies. Learn four new skills.

Sleep more. Make The Yankee laugh a lot.


3
Oct 18

Junk, and a drawer

Have you ever, in your life, seen a junk drawer this organized?

I bought some balsa and jigsawed out some little dividers for one of my bathroom drawers and that was such a big hit that I had to make one for The Yankee and then she asked if I had any left over balsa and could I make some more.

So I set about making the junk drawer a bit neater.

This one is not a junk drawer. It is a rice drawer, which is where we store the rice. And also some other things:

A gif I made for clip art purposes: