(no subject)

Friday i wrote:

I figure today is the last day of the first half of my life. It is reasonable to assume i will live past 90, but 90 seems a reasonable point to "plan" for.

I'm pondering writing a message to my 90 year old self. It's hard to imagine what she will think of me. I suspect there will be amusement at the quaintness of how i was writing. "Oh yes, i remember when i was enamored with Live Journal/Dreamwidth," rather like how i now reflect on my twenty some year old's self's fondness for fountain pens.

Intriguingly, in my birthday card, my mom sent me the rolodex card i had sent her when i moved to Philadelphia. Written with a fountain pen.



This year, my birthday is being barely observed. I'd noted advice to remove your birthday from Facebook, so i did not receive a g'zillion "Happy birthdays." I did receive a few wishes from friends: colleagues reached out, someone asked if my photo of a margarita was an early celebration. Family called, there's a card from my parents and one from my mother, and Christine made sure i celebrated with food and a package to unwrap.

I am not doing much observing, myself.



Time seems to have slipped through my fingers like water. I delighted myself with sighting a new to me duck, a pair of American Widgeons, and in general enjoying the visual power of the long lens. (Walk notes: three flowering plants (one invasive), five species of ducks, two species of herons, savannah sparrow, and American avocet.)

We're going through a seemingly sudden change in season here. The pink ornamental fruit trees are like cotton candy at a fairground. My commute features dense shoulders of mustard and radish flowers, along with a lovely stretch of lupine. The hottentot fig, iceplant -- the non-native succulent planted along the highways -- has pompoms of Easter colored pink and yellow. After some weeks of pondering a new observation as i drive around, i am now noting many new changes.


American widgeon

I attended a memorial service yesterday for a woman at Meeting who has impressed me with her centeredness of experience. Listening, aware i am at my putative midpoint in my life, aware that one never knows when one will die, i (as usual) wonder what will be said about me, and is it what i want?

Christine is distressed over the wolf kills going on in Wyoming, and i ponder shedding this life and moving to the road. Health care, my brain reminds me, the most important thing working earns is affordable health care. Indeed. But -- what is next?

I spoke to my sister in law while Christine was napping. Christine had shared with her worry about my mental state last fall, so i noted the good drugs, the annoying psychiatrist, and that knowing i was working on looking for what's next had brought me a great deal of peace about work.

I am working on the homework of somatically experiencing the good things, trying to track my physical response of curiosity and pleasure.

In the early morning, i began mentally listing the to-dos of today. It's the day before i step on the roller coaster - a dense short work week, travel to see my grandmother in Tampa (high 81, chance of thunderstorms), travel to Ohio (high 46, chance of snow). I've sorted out where i am with a couple of crochet projects for the plane, and i have plenty of audio media. (Pleasure and entertainment first.) Now to face the responsibilities ahead.

This morning i clerk meeting for worship and gather the last of the nominating forms.