Spatial Thoughts From Earlier in the Year

Morning is my favorite time of any day. I rise early before the sounds of automobiles and trains begin to sear the air with the pounding of tires and wheels on tarmac and track. When engines aren't grinding and horns aren't blaring. I put on my soft slippers, quietly pad my way to the kitchen, make the morning's coffee and carefully let the cats and the dog out for their morning duties.

In the morning it's so quiet out here that I can hear life breathing and life coming awake. Even inside the house I can hear the caw of the crow as it flies over the courtyard, trying to roust the other birds "Wake Up! Wake Up! You lazy birds! I need someone to harass and I have NEWS NEWS..." In the kitchen the smell of coffee begins to fill the air. I quietly open the kitchen door and step outside for a few minutes, filling my lungs and head with the early air of the day, the air that gets refreshed each night by the trees and the plants living in my small crop of land. I carefully let the dog back in. Carefully because he wants to tell me all about the NEWS that he heard from the crow and all the fresh smells on the air. I want him to be silent for just a bit longer and not wake the world.

I make a small, portable breakfast, usually just some toasted bread - this morning's was semolina three cheese with butter from the cheese factory down the road - pour my coffee, add some cream to it and silently make my way to our parlor where I sit to watch and greet the sun as it rises over the neighbor's barn, hoping to catch it's light as it sparkles and dances off the surface of their pond. On days, like today, where the clouds obscure the sky or rain or snow pelts the windows, I settle in with a good book or a pen and some paper and restore my soul in the warmth, comfort and security of my home.

Soon the bell on the coffee maker goes off, the dog puts his 2 cents in, arousing Tim from his slumber and I hear the telly flick on, the cars start to proliferate on the road outside and the horn and engine of the sitting train announce it's start of a new journey. The day of humanity begins again with all it's noise and speed and consumption. For good or for bad, it is what it is.

I've worked all my life except for an occasional year off to raise children or to raise a barn. The jobs that I have worked have been for companies whose benefits to and for the human species have been negligible at best and normally just plain questionable, and I've worked for institutions born just to regulate and correct the harm resulting from their enterprise. In the peace of the morning, it all seems rather pointless.

Today it is Sunday and it's wet and sunless. Prohibited from gracing our morning. The cars take on an additional sound, that of splashing or moving water off the surface of the road. It's a louder sound, duller because of the heavy wet air, but louder, and it echoes among the leaves of the trees and bounces off the sides of the buildings in the courtyard. An orchestral tune in celebration of having someplace to go. The birds are settled in to their homes like I am, certain that the cats will not venture far enough from the house in the rain to be a danger. The crow, sounding frustrated - no one to listen and no one to care. The cats do venture forth but quickly return to the warm and dry house only to park in front of the door or window to complain about their dubious imprisonment.

I close the doors to the parlor, muffling the sounds from the rest of the house. I read a bit, write a bit and think of our small plot of land and it's potential. I think of the upcoming winter months and hope that we are prepared. I do a mental inventory of what is in the pantry, what I have yet to harvest and what needs to be purchased to make it complete. I plan for the winter solstice and I think that each day is too short for what I need to accomplish. I think of work and it does not bring pleasant thoughts but realistically it pays for things. Things that we think we must have to exist. Acceptable indentured servitude with benefits.

Tim, my partner in life, is back in school now. He's very good at it and is doing well. It fits him and he's in a field that he can be passionate about and feel that he's doing some social, economic and environmental good and that it all works towards peace and stability. A very noble aim and I truly hope that he succeeds. I am envious though. I had as my number one goal - after being a space adventurer - of being an eternal student. Going to school, learning, researching and eventually teaching. I realize that even to do that I would still be working hard. My home would need maintenance, my family would need nurturing, and my gardens would need to be tended. I do believe that it would have been a path that fit me well. In the end I did not have that choice, or I should say that when it came time to making a choice, that was not one that was available. However, I take some comfort in that my children still can and are able to do so.

And so my morning writings have come to an end. I must begin to prepare for the mid-day meal. Scalloped potatoes and ham. Ham from the pig we got from our neighbors last year. We had ham steaks on Thursday and the bone and remainder will go in the stock pot for soup.

Oh and look! guests have arrived and they have brought me a very large bag of cranberries. It took two of them to get it out of their trunk. Now I have plenty of work to do. Thanks Stubby and your friend. I had forgotten about our conversation but your timing is perfect. I will process them with my apples all this week. My pantry is almost complete.

So ends this journal entry, October 25th, 2009, 2:20 pm