Last week was kind of a blur. I was very much focused on the fact that 10/9 was twenty-five years since my first boyfriend killed himself. Which I was only thinking of because it happened the same year as 9/11 and there was news about it being 25 years. And I thought about how Chris Hill would be 42. And I wondered what he might have done in his life. What other lives he might have touched, if he’d taken the chance on more time instead of taking an early exit.
Hot springs on Wednesday was good, but spoiled a bit by a migraine that was trying to form. Despite my efforts at using the hot tub to relax my tight muscles, it did develop into a migraine and I took the medication for it the next morning, which really threw my day off. I did somehow make it through work, and then that evening I attended the second soprano/alto sectional rehearsal in Midvale. It was good to get some extra hugs from my friends there.
I had mentioned to my therapist that I’d written a letter to Chris when I went to college, but before I sent it I got the news that he had died. She suggested that I write him a letter as a memorial. After family zoom on Friday, I did write him a short letter. I want to burn it, but I haven’t taken the time to figure out a safe way to do that other than actually using my fire pit. I’ve never actually used it, though Ambrose did use it to burn some of the wood he’d taken off the old deck.
Saturday I decided was going to be an errands day. And I did, eventually, run some errands. But the start of that day was quite unusual. By which I mean, I slept outside until the sun came up, and then I went inside and went back to sleep until nearly 12:30 pm. I haven’t slept until noon for years, especially when I got to bed at a reasonable hour (definitely before midnight). I figured I needed the rest. My new friend Randy stopped by with more walnuts; he says the ones that I let get moldy should be fine. I just need to dry them and use my judgment before eating any given nut because some will have worms. I lent him The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. It’s one of my favorite books all time, and I think that he will appreciate the philosophical aspects of it.
He also saved me a trip to the transfer station by graciously taking the one bag of trash that I had. And his visit got me motivated, though I would have eventually motivated myself because I’ve been feeding my friend’s dog in town. Oh! The first day I fed him was Thursday, and the trash day in town is Friday. My friend has put their cans out before they left on Wednesday, and I’m pretty sure the bear that has been hanging around Cambridge got into one of them. It was tipped over, and trash was strewn around, bags ripped open. And that can was heavy with some metal and wood waste. I had to deadlift it from the front to stand it up again, so it definitely wasn’t a dog that tipped it. I borrowed some gloves from their house to pick the trash up and set the can back upright. I’ll be feeding that dog through tomorrow. I do like having a dog to take care of that isn’t in my house.
Sunday I slept in until about 9 and then went for a hike after eating breakfast and slowly getting ready. Ambrose would have nixed a hike if I slept that late, but I’m not as persnickety about hiking early, especially with the colder weather coming in. I used my new winter boots that I got from Lems. I think those boots are going to work out very well for the cold. I’m definitely bringing them to Chicago for Christmas, and I just hope that there’s enough snow for some snowshoeing around the neighborhood this year because they’ll be perfect for that.
I went out about 2.25 miles and then back. It was a good hike. Crisp air. Leaves starting to change. But no snow or frost yet. Maybe I’ll find some next time if I leave earlier and have time to get to the peak. I got back to town a bit before four and fed my friend’s dog early so I wouldn’t have to leave home again. And then I got some good work done. I watered my trees and my lilac bush, meal prepped for dinners and breakfasts and got some laundry done.
I’m having tortilla pizzas again for dinners. I was going to make my own tortillas, but I realized I’m not up for that right now, so I bought some when I went shopping in town on Saturday.
I had a hard time falling asleep last night. Sore legs and a restless mind. So I’ve been tired today. But I was energized by choir practice. I tried out for the solo part in “You’re a Mean One, Mister Grinch” and the ladies ensemble. It turns out that no men have expressed in interest in the male solo for Grinch, so that might get filled by two women. Fine by me, I’ll do either part. I’ll find out soon. One of the other women who auditioned for that solo is also a widow and I got to chatting with her tonight.
Tomorrow, when I go to feed my friend’s dog after work, I’ll stop by the grocery store in town and pick up something that will serve as birthday cake. Maybe a donut. Maybe a muffin. Something frozen perhaps, even a pie. Something to put candles on so I can make a wish for my 44th. And there will be family zoom so that will be nice.
