Year Number Five

We start Year Six in Windermere. My innate optimism has ebbed away. Grant is working hard at getting healed and stronger, however, it all has taken a toll on me too. Little by little, I see our world contracting. That makes me sad. I know most of this low is because I’m so tired. Not just all the additional physical outgo, but also all the worry I have. The latter is probably just wasteful because there is so little I can control anyway. 

I know this will pass. I will adjust. I will get more sleep. It is just now, in the interim, that I flail against my situation. I recently read a book that suggests being kind to one’s future self: will that cookie now make my future self happy? Is my excuse to skip exercise really how I want to care for myself in the long run? A positive spin on doing what I know I want, right here and now. It works some of the time.

On the plus side, Grant’s fall was as well timed as possible. We don’t have any big events on the horizon that we would have to worry about canceling. I’ve been eyeing a riverboat trip in Egypt. Grant asked it that were dangerous. We’ve proven that our own house is, so why not do what we want and accept the cost? Maybe in 2026 or 2027, I’ll see the sphinx and the Nile.

Meanwhile, I’m gardening and declutterring. Living in my dream of having it all done by the fall. Aha there’s that optimism.