Wellll...the deathless prose I just created got lost in a Firefox crash. Everything wiped out except the title. Mercury retrograde is snickering gleefully.
I wrote about the pregnant tarp over the woodpile that is billowing in the very gusty wind. And the 47 degree temps that feel like 37. And the daffodils and blooming almonds that are going to get their little premature heads nipped. And the fact that I'm not ready for sandals and tee shirts yet -- I want more sweats and sweaters, and yet I note how cold it feels in the office.
I wrote about feeling unsettled like the weather, and acheybreakey in the joints despite the remedies we take for it, and chalking it up to aging.
I mused about saying gratitude prayers every morning for being in this wonderful place, for the tremendous love with which I am blessed, for family, for friends old and new, for enough food, enough warmth, a beautiful house, for loving pets and being whole. And yet I still groused about endless to-do lists and little foreseeable financial gain, and no recreational respite in sight.
Guess that crash was a message that I need to just suck it up and remember how blessed I am.
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