Rushing through Advent

It’s supposed to be a time of contemplation and preparation

It’s 14F here this morning, but I already knew it was cold by the blue gray mountain range on the horizon, formed of water vapor over Lake Michigan when the cold air hits the water. On mornings like this the sea smoke, as the sailors call it, rises in swirling columns from the water as far as you can see, forming a mysterious alien world. I used to stop at the beach on my way to work downtown to watch, delaying as long as possible my entry to the office and a day of other people’s priorities. When I escaped my work life and went to the island, these were the kind of days the ferry crew on Death’s Door told me ghost stories while we sat in the pilot house, drinking coffee and watching the chunks of ice form mosaics on the surface of the lake.

The lake has mountains. The contrast in real life is much more dramatic.

This morning I sit by the fire with Auggie—Eli having sauntered off to his watching post by the living room window—and have a day to follow my own priorities. Whatever I do today will be because I want to. When I had a day off and could stay home with the dogs I would tell them “We’re going to have a happy, happy day!” And now, I can say that most days. But today will be particularly happy. There will be reading. Of books.

We got caught off guard by the onset of winter these past few weeks, so Joe was here yesterday to button up a few things, and to help me with Christmas decorations. He takes my flower pots and fills them with evergreens, pinecones, and red dogwood, and he’ll hang the garland for me, too, since I spend too much time at the chiropractor to risk climbing on ladders in ice. Unfortunately, though, I had so many routine appointments yesterday that I missed almost all of Joe’s time here, and I spent much of the afternoon in waiting rooms pondering my life choices. I thought to myself: Tomorrow I will have no appointments and nowhere to go. And then I remembered the gym, and I had this full body realization that I needed a day when I didn’t have to get up, get dressed, put on mascara and go anywhere. The gym can wait. And the day’s pent-up frustration I had been feeling evaporated from my body. I took the day off.

Joe is coming again with the garland, and we may make a little pilgrimage to my favorite greenhouse. That would make my day perfect. And I may make some Christmas cookies, which only I will eat, but which make me feel festive.

The dogs have made their usual mid-morning switch, with Auggie now on the bed by the fire and Eli on the couch, where he is drifting in and out of somnolent watching from his aerie. They kept me busy last night, what with barking at the animals and four separate requests to go outside (Eli) so I am a bit somnolent myself.

I think I will have a slice of stollen with my second cup of coffee.

Happy Thursday.

“All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” ~Julian of Norwich

I am immensely grateful for my paid subscribers. I know times are hard, and your willingness to invest in my work is deeply inspiring to me and very much appreciated. It is a trust I take seriously. Lately it feels as if the world is losing its collective mind, and it’s difficult to look out and see the chaos around us. But we are not the only human beings in history who have lived through trying times, and although we are required to do what is right, adversity does not require us to live in abject misery. It’s essential to remind ourselves of the good things in the world, so I hope these posts provide a place of refuge for my readers. So, come and hang out with me, the dogs, and this stalwart little community of good people. We need one another. And remember: We do not have to live on bended knee.

Also: dog photos.

And now for your gratuitous dog photo:

Eli in his watching spot. He is well-situated to look down on a large swath of his territory.

Auggie sleeps the sleep of the righteous.

Eli sleeps the sleep of the sweet, but entitled.