Monday, November 28, 2011

Here it comes

November 18, 2011, taken on my way home from work

With the time change, comes the darkness. No, not the deepening gloom of winter. I refer to the deepening gloom that envelops my soul as the days shorten and I lose time to hike and time at the keyboard. (Because the cabin is so cold in winter, I can only sit here for short periods. After ten or fifteen minutes, my hands are so cold they become too stiff to type.) Thus, as we inch toward the solstice, I find myself unable to do two of those activities which keep me (relatively) sane. Oof.

I’m hoping things will be a bit different this year. A few months back, I bought a custom-made, solid oak drafting table and set it up (with the help of The Grandson) about ten feet away from the furnace. Last weekend, when we had snow, I put it to the test—working on the dog book for some time, writing out page after page in longhand, which I don’t mind doing. My writer-friend Lola DeMaci tells me that this is the better method, anyway. I’m a fast typist; I’ll do the transcribing when I finish the section (which, by the way, is the final section of the book).

That still doesn’t solve my problem of having to curtail long walks in the forest. By the time I get home, it’s 4:00 or past, and it’s dark here now by 4:30, so unless I walk all the way ‘round with a flashlight, I won’t be able to walk The Loop except on weekends… which means I might just pack back on that six pounds I shed this summer.

See? It’s depressing. To say nothing of Christmas coming on and no one to share it with. Well, except my own little Sugar Plum.

OK, I promise my next post will be a bit more uplifting. We’re only 24 days from the solstice… and then the light will slowly return….


  1. Six pounds? A gift! Seriously, I'm sorry you don't like the darker days--I love this time of year because the flat, white light down here feels oppressive to me for nine months of the year. Have you tried a space heater to loosen the fingers for typing? Works great.

  2. Jimi, I think it's time you came up for a visit. Let's do a teacher-tea!

  3. To me, winter is box. It all its beauty, at times, I still can't learn to like it,,,, but that is a beautiful pic. There are some good "trade offs", surely, reckon?

  4. Glenn, I reckon you're right. The gnats and other bugs disappear, the sun glints off the snow like a million diamonds or stars--and moonlight on snow is about the most breathtaking beauty I've ever seen....

  5. You have company in couting down to the solstice. This is the time of year when my husband announces every few days or so "so and so many days until we start towards summer again!" I have never liked the heat so I am fine with winter, if that is what we can call what we have here in Jurupa Valley! Hope your new writing desk works out for you! Good luck getting the book done!