Category: Writing

A light snow-cover greeted me on the final day of this personal retreat. It will take about 15 minutes to clear the driveway, which I will do once snowfall slows later this morning. It should be a good day.

I made the planned Christmas dinner with the exception of the chick pea snacks. I decided there was enough food without them, and in any case, they would better serve any New Year’s Eve celebration. There are leftovers for today and tomorrow.

It has been challenging to shed obligations of our Big Grove life long enough to gain some perspective. I did the best I could, and yesterday went well. While I would like to live only for my writing and creativity, that seems a bit romantic (like Coleridge, Shelley and Keats) for someone with deep American roots. It is especially true when confronted with the existential worry about whether the village well will continue to work, the furnace plant will operate as designed, the snow plow crew will arrive as scheduled, and major appliances will continue to work until we are ready to replace them. Everything held over the holiday.

The coronavirus pandemic has not relented. People I know are administering home tests, with some contracting the virus. It is no badge of honor to have had COVID. On the contrary, we tend to look down on someone who got it, the way we look down on someone who got cancer. Having had COVID gives us pause when the science about masking and vaccines is so clear. The basic starting point is answering the question, “What did you do wrong?” It seems very accusative. As far as I know, I have not contracted COVID, although it is ubiquitous and I likely will.

Today will be organizing for a return to work as normal. I have a good idea of what must come next in my autobiography. I’m writing a budget for 2023. I crave outdoors activity and if the weather relents, I’ll get some today. Now that holiday feasting is done, I must design a menu that will support health. It will be a busy day.

Thanks for following my journey this holiday season.

Wind blew snow into drifts across the driveway. I spent 20 minutes removing them with the snow blower so the surface would be flat and ready to collect the coming snowstorm tonight. That is the extent of outside work for today.

It continues to be quiet in the neighborhood. The president said it as well as anyone:

There is a certain stillness at the center of the Christmas story: a silent night when all the world goes quiet. And all the clamor, everything that divides us, fades away in the stillness of a winter’s evening. I wish you that peace this Christmas Eve.

President Joe Biden official Twitter account on Dec. 24, 2022.

One memory of Christmas is walking to Midnight Mass at the Catholic Church where my parents wed and I was baptized and confirmed. I remember that one night, everything was still while large flakes of snow fell to cover the sidewalk. I felt an urgent purpose as I made my way to the North entrance of the church.

Midnight Mass was one of the most attended events in the liturgical calendar. Even Father, who was not particularly religious, attended that night.

Last night I wrote a menu for my solitary dinner tonight.

On first glance, it looks like quite a feast. It looks fancier than it is when one writes it up that way. Basically, I’m using up leftover rice and getting some pickles, applesauce and other canned goods used up. The meal should be satisfying, with leftovers for tomorrow and beyond.

The plan for today is to relax and take it easy. There are some phone calls planned and that’s about it. A day to rest before tonight’s storm.

Christmas Eve changed into a quiet time. It has always been that — for as long as I can remember — yet it seems quieter today than it has been. I heard the wind howling in the neighborhood, rattling our windows while I was reading. This cold snap is beginning to break with wind speed slowing overnight and warmer ambient temperatures forecast, beginning today.

Yesterday the garage got colder than I wanted. I scraped snow and ice from the rubber seal on the door and piled rags where the door met the concrete to keep wind out. In the afternoon, I warmed the garage with a space heater until it got closer to freezing. I turned the space heater off when I went to bed and this morning the temperature had stabilized at 30 degrees.

I phoned my sister on Friday. Part of our discussion was Mother’s cooking. I don’t remember much of the food we ate at home while I was in K-12 schools. I made a list of main dishes: meatloaf, liver and onions, roast beef, baked ham, tacos, vegetable beef soup, salmon patties, and hamburgers and hot dogs came to mind. Mother would make red-eye gravy for Father because of his rural, Southern roots. It was usually all for him, so we kids didn’t get any. We ordered takeout pizza from time to time from the Chicken Delight restaurant on Locust Street. I have some of Mother’s recipes yet don’t prepare them after my conversion to being mostly vegetarian.

I have forgotten how to make bread. In my second attempt during this retreat, it was good tasting, yet didn’t have the crumb I wanted. After posting a photo on Facebook someone commented, “Eat your failures, no evidence. We will not speak of this again.” I do need to eat some of the bread, and then I want to do it again until I produce a decent loaf. I also baked a batch of 12 almond cookies for Christmas Day (unless I eat them sooner). They are simple and good.

Yesterday the U.S. Congress sent an omnibus spending bill to the president for his signature. They funded the government until Sept. 30, 2023, the end of the fiscal year. Democrats didn’t have the votes to address the debt ceiling, so that remains an open question. The bill signals the end of Biden’s successful years with the 117th Congress. With Republicans holding a slim majority in the U.S. House after the midterm elections, we expect to see big successes slow down. If it is like the Obama administration was after the 2010 conservative tsunami, very little will get done. I hope I’m wrong, yet I’ve been paying attention.

I considered the letter to the editor and opinion pieces I submitted to newspapers. I don’t know what future there is in that for me. I became proficient in making a single point and sticking with it in tight, brief sentences. We could call what I did “issue advocacy” where I had a position on an issue and argued my point. Part of the problem with our society is everyone has issues and will argue their point in public spaces while no one is listening to each other. We have to get beyond issues politics. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Thing is, some opinions are plain wrong.

Today is another day of home cooking and reflection. I plan to have some sort of snack tray with pickles, crudites, and prepared snacks. Dinner will be chili with cornbread, which is a home-grown Christmas Eve tradition. If I can figure out the television schedule, I might turn it on and watch a full program or movie. That may be more cultivated than I’m feeling this morning.