It is 6:40 am and completely dark outside. Oh, this winter cocoon time. I can still be surprised by its intensity as it comes to take a huge bite out of my desire for complacency. It is not as cold outside as it usually is this time of year in Madison, although my Madison peeps are posting hiking and bike riding pictures. Yesterday in Newton, a storm gifted us damp, chilly rain, hail, thunder and lightening. We ventured out for food shopping, and that only because it was necessary.
I started writing in bed and moved to my leather writing chair in the dining room. I move about the house in the dark, a habit from when I shared a bedroom and did not want to disturb my sleeping mate. I pull on my heavy pj pants and grab the shawl from Madison friends–blues and purples and memories. Tangible memories from friends punctuate my days—a Madison dish towel, knitted dish clothes, a bag of very fine cocoa mix, even the reusable bags I carry my groceries in. In the lonely and trying moments of the last six months, these things have bought solace. Continue reading



Another liminal stage of this unexpected life.