SchrodingersCat39

December is when I think about time and my life and where I'm going and where I've been.  My birthday is the 3rd and this one is the big 3-oh.  A milestone.  I'm actually happy to no longer be a 20-something and I'm okay with where I am in life now that I'm finally free and out on my own.  I miss my son terribly, but he and I are both in better situations and it will be all the sweeter to see him for the holidays.

On October 2nd, I moved to Crossville, TN.  I am typing now from my basement apartment in Judy's house.  It's been a difficult time, but not without bright spots.  I'll try to type more later.  Right now, I need food.  Gotta go start fire to cook.  

My birthday is December 3. This is my wish list for those of you who would like to give me something.


First of all, the best gift is you.  Let's go somewhere and do something.  It doesn't have to be expensive, just spend time with me.

2 new innertubes for my bike (24")

Pocket Camping Saw  $2.98  (I'd actually like a couple of these)
  www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000…

Fire Starter  $4.15
  www.amazon.com/SE-Emergency-Fi…

The Land of Painted Caves: A Novel (Earth's Children)  UPDATE:  I HAVE THIS BOOK NOW.  THANKS FOR LOOKING.

Rotary Egg Beater  $14.84
  www.amazon.com/Norpro-2268-Rot…

Mindflex Game  $60.00
  www.amazon.com/Mattel-P2639-Mi…

ACDC music  (anything but Black Ice album)

Kindle e-book reader

I love the smells of Fall.  Crunchy brown leaves.  Wool yarn.  Wood fire.  Apples.  Cut pumpkins.  Hot glue gun.  Straw bales.  Thick soups and chili.  Fresh bread.  Did you ever notice that cold has it's own smell?

  Then there are the sounds.  Children laughing and shouting "Trick or Treat!"  The wind in the bare branches and the skitter-skit of leaves blown across pavement.  The whirrr of the sewing machine stitching up a piece of costume or just mending torn clothes.  Clicking of knitting needles.  The creak of a rocking chair on a wooden porch.  Rustling of dried corn stalks.  The plop of pumpkin guts scooped out onto newspaper.  And, of course, the snaps and pops of a wood fire.

  Autumn is almost here, not just by the calendar, but by the feel of nature getting ready to slow down and rest.  It's my favorite season, the relief at the end of a scorching summer.  I am so very ready.

The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
                                       ~Ecclesiastes 1:9  KJV

  It's hard to write sometimes, knowing that nothing I have to say has not been said before.  I am strutting and fretting my hour upon the stage just as all who came before me.  In some ways, the continuity of it all is comforting.  When I stand at the sink with my hands in soapy water, I am repeating the exact motions many of the women in my ancestry made over other sinks each in her own time.  I feel more connected to them in those moments, and I think of the women who will be born of my line and see a part of myself that stretches back through the ages and forward through the centuries.  It can be an awesome thing.  These moments of connection mostly make up for the existential angst of knowing that nothing I do is truly new, and I feel less alone.