On sleeping well and looking to the near future--

I've been sleeping with the window open a couple of inches at night, and I am pleased with the result--I'm actually sleeping. I love the sounds: peepers, a soft breeze, and then, early, peepers again, but also birds. This morning, at 4:50, robins began warbling in the day. I drifted back to sleep for a half hour, but it was pleasant and I feel almost rested. 

This is all good news, given I tend to not sleep well at all. I actually got 7.5 hours of almost unbroken sleep. Imagine that.

The weekend is supposed to be spring-ish: sunshine today and Saturday, rainy on Sunday. I hope G gets the beeyard finished today on his day off-- the bees are coming Sunday! I don't think I'll be pruning roses yet, though; I was hoping for Sunday, but nobody wants to be entangled in branches and thorns in the rain. It can wait a little bit longer. 

That said, G says he might get the deck furniture out today, as well! Won't that be nice, sitting outside with coffee? And a book? I feel the ticking of the clock differently in the spring-- soon, soon, I will have more flexible time. I have not chosen to pick up summer employment, instead focusing my energies on helping Meg with Holly and getting my little gardens done. I have one poetry conference, but it's in August and online. We are scheduled to take a small family beach getaway, too-- that will be in July. After so many long years of family crises and Covid, it would be great to slow things down a bit, recalibrate, and then figure out what's next. Visiting reindeer is on Holly's bucket list, so we will figure that out, for sure.

For me, what's next is about nine more years of teaching, assuming I make it. I'm a little scared of the future, truth be told, but it'll have to take care of itself. Likely, I'll keep going past that, if I need to and can, but some days I just feel tired. The more flexible schedule of summer is a powerful allure, and maybe semi-retirement would look like that every day. It's something to shelve for now, but it's there, beckoning. Or maybe it's just whistling in the dark?

But today, it's Friday, and it's sunny, and I slept well. That will have to be enough. 

Take care,

C