Dear Maria,
While walking the dog this morning—and in especially good spirits despite the chill—I thought I ought to catch up with you and a few other friends when I am not so inclined to trot out some recent burrs under my saddle. With a heartfelt mea culpa, I must own up to so often pushing friendships to the point of rode hard and put away wet as the expression goes.
Not so much that I have some spectacularly great news, but being in a more positive frame of mind ought to be a worthy share, message-wise—tis the season, after all. Not that so much in the world is much changed from the daily barrage and counter-barrage of despair and hope.
Ah, my anti-virus just blocked a potentially malicious website.
Messages of academic success are trickling in from students now off at college. Former colleagues are reaching out to a fellow teacher whose new son, come prematurely into this world, weighs but 25 ounces. My mother’s health seems not only to have steadied but is improving.
Hardly headlines in the making, of course. But surely closer to the ebb and flow of daily lives as we live them. Smallish victories, pulses beating with some hopefulness, the rallying cries of neighbors.
While eating lunch—inside today—I began making some changes to the backyard in my mind. Moving some plants, expanding the reach of the garden, and maybe adding a structure of some sort for sitting under that takes advantage of the winter’s afternoon sun but would provide shade in the summer.
Out front, the Easter elm, as I have named it, remains green now mid-way through December.
I am of a mind to make a resolution. So, my December 13th resolution, to be a little easier in the saddle with my family and friends. And myself.
Back into the 70s here tomorrow, and then we will be bundling up against the cold early next week. So it goes.
Be well.
Still, srk
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