December 21st, 2013

munkacsy_parc_monceau

Solstice

The moon gets up a little bit later each night. It has sleep issues, just like me. Maybe that's why I get along with it so well. The moon is brighter than I am, though, and its routine, unlike mine, is predictable. Mine is more like the weather— I never know for sure what will happen next. For example, it now looks as though the wet Christmas is not going to happen. But then it's almost a week away, so it's not a sure bet. I like that it has turned comparatively mild, and the days are cool rather than cold, and the nights cold rather than frigid, but the continued dryness is distressing. I've had to start irrigating the plants again. And here is the December solstice. This is not good.

Also not good is the fact that I gave myself fifteen minutes to write and post an entry for December 20, and it ended up taking almost twenty minutes to write this because the computer has gotten so slow. Maybe I'll start posting just the first line of entries I begin late in the day, and then edit in the rest of them after they've gotten their time and date recorded. Or I could just try to start writing earlier.

Anyway, Happy Solstice.
caillebotte_man at his window

Real Bright

I have to keep cutting back on the amount of food I make for dinner. It doesn't take as long for me to get stuffed these days. (Heh. I said get stuffed.) Tonight I made too much macaroni and cheese. Macaroni keeps forever, but I don't know what I'll do with the rest of the package of cheese. I noticed that the package says it should be used within three to five days of being opened. I'd be lucky to use it up within three to five weeks. Maybe I'll just fry it. Fried cheese is tasty, though it's probably going to clog my arteries.

The first day of winter wasn't especially wintry. I didn't even feel like making tea. It was clear all day, and the low sun was improbably bright. The rest of the week is apt to be pretty much the same. It feels like a betrayal, as it leaves me with very little to grouse about. Winter is supposed to provoke complaints, but my only justifiable complaint is that the relentlessly sunny sky is depressing me. Where is the gray?