My dearest, peaceful up in the aerie, Claire napping on a blanket on the floor next to me, someone noisily riding a motorcycle up & down our dead end road just now. I had a page hit from Daytona Beach this morning, and a couple related to the quote, "it's not about being perfect, it's about being whole" - could they have been from 1.0? That seems so out of character for him, yet the Android ISP was from Aurora - this is the sort of flotsam & jetsam I puzzle over, neverendingly, without answers.
I read a couple of Shakespeare sonnets this morning - he makes it seem so easy, on one level, the smooth cadences one slips into, yet the word choices - always so unexpected, I could never come up with them.
I practiced hymns this afternoon. The Reverend had sent me a list of numbers (at my request), of ones for me to focus on. Most of them are unfamiliar to me. And so as I picked them out on piano I had to count out the rhythm, to try to get it right. Four.... one two three four... one two three four... Until they become second nature to me, it is clear that the congregation, their voices lifted in song, will be a guide for me in getting the notes and especially rhythm right - and that I will learn the words from them. I look forward to the day that it's all very very familiar, that there isn't a trace of anxiety associated with it on my part. Don't get me wrong - I'm looking forward to the challenge - it's just that, of course, I don't wish to fumble too badly -- if for no other reason, frankly, than that organ playing at a church service - is absolutely not about me - it should be in service of - the service. I can be part of the fabric... yet somehow invisible... disappear.
I wonder how you are, where you are, I hope things are going well with you. Is it perhaps fun - to have another man (at long last!) in the house? I hope so, for you. I can't imagine it... I won't... and I don't wish to tread... I'm just sitting here, feeling quite tired actually, trying to keep my mind & fingers moving, and thinking of you.
I am looking forward to Daylight Savings Time already. I look at my botanical desk calendar - for January, the illustrated image is of an amaryllis, that looks to me more like a lily. Tomorrow we get into the double digits. Wednesday finds a bit of a clearing - we set sail into the rest of the month that will contain only two more Wednesdays after that, the 18th and the 25th...
I had an incredible session with you this morning, hit the mark and it just went on and on like that rolling earthquake we had a while ago. But it sets my heart racing... for hours afterward. Later I lay down for a nap, and managed to fall asleep, despite the sensation of my heart pounding...
I did a workout to Dr. Oz. I don't take any supplements at all, not even a multivitamin. Maybe I should start. I did buy ground flaxseed yesterday (I must buy something when I'm at the market!), to sprinkle on oatmeal, and into pizza dough that I started making before I sat down just now. I stirred together ¼ teaspoon of yeast, with water, sugar, salt, glugs of olive oil... and realized that I was entirely out of bread flour. So I texted D -- he'll drive down the awful lonesome highway of the "Greenport Commons" military compound and pick up the stoneground, milled in Vermont, that's at least a dollar or two cheaper at the big box store than it is in the supermarket.
And that's it really, sweetheart, for now. Daylight savings time starts again on March 11. Not so many Sundays to go. I am breaking out lighter colors already - begone thick black cardigan & maroon boat-neck top! We're on to pale pink cowl-neck paired with lightweight gray buttoned...
I've got daffodils in tiny pots in either kitchen window. They haven't bloomed yet, it's just the green shoots. Yes - I'm all for forcing bulbs... encouraging Spring to come, please come - as soon after Christmas, and the Epiphany, baptism too - all done - as possible.
And that's that, my day & hours, for now, dear heart. Tomorrow's another day. I'm defrosting lamb shanks, collected one at a time, scored at 'yellow sticker' prices over the months. I've bought a package of orzo. Tomorrow or the next day I should roast a head of garlic. I've already bought 8 plum tomatoes... only I made it 12.
And in this fashion, I will, by the end of the week, amble comfortably into making, in stages, a bit at time an involved recipe...
perhaps like pulling out one stop or another from a pipe-organ? I don't know - but perhaps I will, in coming weeks & months find out, as I explore, as it seems I may have the chance, that fresh avenue & wonderful rich organic marvelous breathing groaning bellowing instrument ---
truly a machine come to life
when the Reverend & I, the two of us,
figured out where the switch was
(she could see it from where she stood, I couldn't from where I sat)
and I switched it on
It was a bit like Frankenstein---
this incredible marvelous machine
much of it invisible, oceanic creature behind walls
roused, heaving, drawing in air with a long ravenous gasp
becoming oxygenated, and as though sentient
coming alive with my attention and touch
doing what I asked
being patient with me
because I didn't really know how to play it
how to treat it
what it was capable of -
or me -
all my love, dearest, many kisses