Three Days

Blessed with 3 days of not needing to go to work, but for some reason at the end of the first of these I am not feeling that lovely euphoric freedom that usually accompanies a long weekend. Is it because I didn't have a glass of wine tonight? How sad if so!

But on the other hand, I am very tired and very sleepy, and D. guesses it's because all week I'm wound up so tight that when I'm not faced with a heavy burden of work outside the home, I just collapse. Hmmm. But I look forward to what will be the biggest chunk of free time I'll have all month tomorrow and the day after. The second half of September promises to be very busy indeed. So I have time but this pressure to "make hay" as well!

Putting the Week to Bed

Nearly all week I worked 6am-6pm. This is not a boast. This is a confession of having already fallen back into the habit of thinking I need to do it all.

This three-day weekend, I will not be working, apart from the highly anticipated yard work, house work, writing, exercise, and catching up with friends. And maybe some genealogy. And studying Japanese. But that's it.

And I'll start by going to bed early. Writing this tiny blog post feels like the most important part of my day. Necessary and satisfying. That's the weight I am giving writing.

Here's a picture sent to me by one of my travel companions in Wales, Jerry. It's me, writing, at a place that has inexplicably huge meaning for me: Dinas Bran.

47 + 1

Today the course of a conversation required that I say out loud how old I am. It was the first time I'd done so. "47."

It sounds frighteningly close to "50" to me, and even though I know 50 is the new 40 - or younger! - I live with existential crises and morbid thoughts of mortality close enough at hand on a regular basis to feel a twinge of panic at the thought.

Not only have I clearly missed the opportunity to be much of a prodigy at anything, I am getting dangerously close to being behind schedule for even some kind of late-blooming life achievements. I don't really want to make Colonel Sanders be my benchmark for personal, professional or artistic success. I have a memory of my father using him as an example of someone making good after the age of 50 - he was 62 when he franchised KFC - but then again, my father was not a shining beacon of accomplishments either.

So I'm currently working close to half time (12 hours a day) and am also writing. Maybe only a little a day, but - say it with me - "incremental progress is progress."    
      

Birthday Post

I did not write a Birthday Poem, a la Dylan Thomas.
But I did check in to say :
still here, happy, working

There have been major ups and some significant downs of late, but I'm
happily working
happily here

Posting from the Eisteddfod

This represents the best wifi I've had in 10 days. So instead of spending a long time writing, I'm going to take advantage of the connection and only post a picture. Here's a shot from Wales.