DARK DECEMBER DAY

A nap helped. After dinner, A and I watched the first two episodes of Six Feet Under, which she had not seen.  That’s a very well written show.

Cooder is sleeping on the pillow beside me and I can hear Emmylou’s bells in the hallway outside my door.

I hope I get some sleep tonight. I took some sleeping medication and it is still early, so wish me luck.

The next day.

I did manage to sleep reasonably well and am somewhat less depressed. A couple of posts back, I mentioned teaching handwriting to children; this morning, this article

What’s Lost as Handwriting Fades

was in my FB feed, which the one or two of you who might be interested can check out. 

I also found this short clip about lower income classes being kinder, which was really interesting. I was musing yesterday that pooling our resources and going for some kind of communal living in our old age might be the way to go.

Now it is Tuesday. There's a big storm, mostly rain but maybe an inch of snow tonight. The rain made moving a challenge; I hope the snow doesn't stop me altogether tomorrow as I have some running around to do. The last little bits are usually the hardest.

Not made any easier with worry about a very close relative who had to go in for emergency surgery today. (Not my mom.) Still waiting to hear how it all went. Then a young man I worked with lost his mother, and that must have been unexpected. He was an excellent fellow, so his mother must have rocked.

Emmy and Cooder are in the freak out phase, as the furniture disappears and the room gets more and more bare.

So, my relative is through surgery and it all went according to plan. I kind of feel as if I should be continuing to pack, but also that I might just be more focussed in the morning.

The depression is at bay, although I have moments of being on the floor, they are rarely for any length of time. I'm kind of vacant because all I can think about is what else I have to do. And I worry about the cats travelling. Emmy carries on so much. Then there is the carting of the material goods upstairs, parking in Park Slope and all that kind of thing.

Transitions are difficult. Remind me not to move again in December.

So, this is just a check in as I haven't been writing, although I keep thinking about it. I need a break.