The day has warmed, enough to melt much of the snow. Shoveling means no ice along our stretch.
I have taken a hot bath, and oiled my hair. I had some olive oil that had started to go rancid. So, I massaged it into my hair and face. Hair has gotten dry, an unusual event. Or at least a new one. I laid in the hot water, staring at the curved shower rail, and thought. "I don't really feel older than I was at 27." But a recent search for photo proves the years have passed. Thirty of them.
Oh, the pain is more pervasive and persistent, I understand so much more, but I don't feel older. Perhaps that's the real secret, there is no such thing as old. Worn out and painful, but not really old.
We've started to discuss a will, since we have a house that has increased in value a frightening amount. First everything to each other. After that... not figured out yet. We are finding it hard to care, after we're both gone. If there is a world left.
3 comments:
"If there is a world left." That, indeed, is the question.
A frightening question when thinking of the following generation...and the waste
I prefer it when weather stays for at least a few days so that you can acclimatise ..enough to enjoy it
Cat,
Well, in a sense, it's a pointless one. But yeah, a bit of fatalism crept in.
gz,
This storm is sticking around, more snow in reserve still.
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