Apparently it is Winter, and there will be Snow, and we have to leave for Annapolis tonight instead of tomorrow morning.
I’m still adjusting to the rush of unhappiness about not having a full 24 hours “off” this week, as well as leaving my kitten for another night, but life will go on.
I cut and split a bit of wood, bathed and washed my hair, tended both stoves, paid some bills, and packed for the weekend. Must still get to the bank and post office so those bills will arrive and not bounce.
The wood stove is a marvel; it’s been mostly between 70 and 72 in here with it running on low. That’s up from 57, where the thermostat is set, and at which level the furnace would come on a few times a day. I have made friends with the door to the stove. It is a big square gaping thing out of which sparks can shoot like the fourth of July. I learn to open the ash drawer door, let the whoosh of air stoke up what’s in the box, open the top door slowly with poker handy against flying cinders. I got some very good, lined leather gloves for handling the wood and opening the doors. Karl and I built a rick for the living room so it doesn’t all have to be on the back porch. We got the outside pile tarped just in time; the following day there was rain, sleet and snow. It’s been rather a mess here.
This was going to be a practice day, but there is no time. I don’t care any more, how slick and well rehearsed I am. My investment in this band has ended. It is freeing; I feel myself moving from anger and resentment, the feeling of being overused, to the peace of letting go. I don’t have to pretend that I can keep all these plates up in the air at once. If some fall, it just doesn’t matter.
