I lay on my red couch in the sun.  I imagine that the sun, as well as the gallon of water and coconut juice, not to mention my kale salad lunch is healing me. 

It is another quiet day right that began right after Julia left for her program and Ed for his daily round. A few texts, a Facebook message, a phone call—that’s all that break the quiet. I am reading Seamus Deane’s Reading in the Dark, for a new HILR class that begins at the beginning of next month. The book—memoir or fiction—is beautiful.  I  read slowly to savor the metaphors and adjectives. The sentences, every single one, is rich dessert. Or perhaps it is the protien rich mind meal that I need to pick up where I have left off of on the callendar’s new year’s day.

Today is my new year’s day and a strange one it is at that.  Never before have I needed so much to recover and heal, never before have I so much needed to nap—well, that is probably not true but this nap need has probably laid dormant for three score and ten years.  

I have great gratitude today for today and yesterday and tomorrow and for those who people my life when it is very small and when it grow again bigger.  

It is all very good.