Longings, three

I would like to have someone make me a meal - not in a restaurant, but at home. To prepare something tasty especially for me, to ask me to sit down at the table, and to present to me a carefully arranged plate of edibles devoid of any migraine-triggering foodstuffs. A repast to enjoy, during which I would not have to attend to anyone else's needs. Just once. That would be lovely.

Night, Reflections

Herself is oddly wide awake in the middle of the night, and I am keeping her company. She has many things to think about, including the final preparations for her trip upcoming this week.

First off, the family: how can she make life easier for her Beloved and the Offspring while she is away? What groceries will they need? Has she included everything necessary on the written schedule to ensure life runs smoothly? Will they be able to take care of the pets properly? Will they manage to get to where they need to be on time? Will anything untoward happen?

Secondly, Herself: does she have the right clothes for the trip? Will the weather cooperate? Will she be able to exercise while she's away? Will she suffer from motion sickness on the flight? How will driving the rental car go? Will she be able to find the hotel, the office? Will she have anything substantive to do while she's there? Will she recognize everyone she should? How many people will she not recognize?

Herself knows that once she gets into the car to drive to the airport, all these concerns will drop away. In motion, with purpose, all that could have been done to prepare will have been done, and she will be able to enjoy the trip. In the meanwhile, she and I are looking out into the darkness and the rain of the night, and it is soothing. Perhaps one day soon we will be able to take a walk in the rain at dusk. That would be lovely.

Secret Plan, Progress

As I mentioned previously, Herself's secret plan is to run a 5K race in February. She has informed me that this weekend, she was indeed able to jog the entire distance on her training route. Huzzah! Though she will not be anywhere near the swiftest entrant at race time, she will be able to run, and that in and of itself is a small miracle.

She worries in her spare time about illness or injury between now and then that might stop her progress. Let us hope that neither comes to pass, and that she can meet her goal. It will mean so much to her.

Pilgrimage Preparations

Telecommuting: once rare, it is more and more common these days. Herself has been a telecommuter for well over a decade now. She does not set foot in the Home Office often, as there is usually no need to do so. An unexpected opportunity to make the pilgrimage to the Home Office has arisen, and Herself will be going north to do so in a few weeks.

Visiting the Home Office is always a fraught affair for Herself. While her sacrifices in relocating and becoming a telecommuter were made willingly and without regret, it is difficult for Herself to see her coworkers so rarely, and she is saddened by how much she misses interacting with them on a daily basis. Inevitably she returns home with a fresh sense of loss and loneliness.

This trip may be different, though. This time, Herself has her local friends to whom she will come home. Once more, she is so grateful for the presence of these people in her life.

Friendship needs no words - it is solitude delivered from the anguish of loneliness. - Dag Hammarskjold

Haiti, Undone

The terrible suffering following the earthquake in Haiti is nearly impossible to imagine. So many lost, wounded, terrified. Our thoughts are with them, that their pain may be assuaged and the relief may be swift. Let us help however we can.

"Can I see another's woe, and not be in sorrow, too? Can I see another's grief, and not seek for kind relief?" - William Blake

Longings, two

I would like to go camping. To pack up my sleeping bag and my tent. To select dehydrated foods with which to experiment in my tiny titanium pans. To hike to a quiet, flat spot, set up camp and build a fire. To watch night fall and to keep an eye out for shooting stars. To listen to the stillness and feel the silence penetrate my bones. To hold my flashlight as I fall asleep, just in case. To creep out of my sleeping bag into the chill of the morning, stoke the fire again, and breakfast at dawn. To break down camp, pack up and move out again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Longings, one

I would like to go out dancing. To leave behind all worldly cares, to feel the music, to think of nothing. Who would like to come with me?