Monday, August 29, 2011
This is my Monday morning, post e-mails, schedules made, to-do list written out. It's not even 8:30 and I'm on my second cup. I bolted out of bed this morning, and I'm not sure why.
Maybe it was the weekend.
Friday — moving me.
Saturday — moving a friend.
My legs feel a bit like jello after going up and down several flights of stairs...many times. Now I want to just go hiking, because when you're done beating your lower body into submission you at least get the reward of a view and a peak. We had the reward of Saranac Root Beer. Almost as good. Nearly. Almost.
Or maybe it was yesterday. Yesterday, I sat by my computer and listened to Emergency Personnel radio scanners as they evacuated people in my hometown area in upstate NY. Streets I knew. Families I love. The school I went to. The waters continued to rise, the dam an ominous silent threat, Hurricane Irene stalling and sitting and pouring.
"Get them out of the valley as fast as you can," I heard. And I waited to hear more — see more — pray more. This morning, I see their photos. I hear their stories. Devastation. Complete devastation. Please pray for the ones I love and all of the residents of Schoharie Valley.
Maybe it's this morning. This week feels like a ticking time-bomb. I told a friend last night that my work week looked relatively light and slow. A few projects I can wrap up, but mostly quiet. I said, "Maybe I have forgotten something." It's not like I *forgot*. I just didn't realize that the first of September was this week. Note to self: Always check the calendar before proclaiming "It should be an easy week!"
So this is my Monday morning.
long to-do list,
two cups of coffee down,
and the cool winds of fall are breezing through my open windows.
And yet, we continue counting (198-209) —
:: clean hardwood floors.
:: hot, homemade bread just out of the oven
:: the early morning light coming through the kitchen curtains.
:: a flowering fuchsia.
:: thrift store bag sales.
:: madeleine's early morning hugs.
:: good friends in a new town.
:: mason jars filled with niece's jam.
:: a chance of luck to have breakfast with a friend who travels at the whim of the wind.
:: the smell of autumn on the wind.
:: late night peace with candles and music.
at 9:50 AM