There is a kosher whole chicken waiting in the refrigerator to be roasted for shabbos.
Many errands were done today. I got to visit with my elder-friend Kati. I still managed to walk by Viele Lake just at dusk.
I can feel my mind rearranging itself to try to accommodate serious projects, and not get deflected by the seemingly undoable task of saving the world and our country since the election.
Last night, I admitted that it was summer, and changed the bed linen to summer-weight. I will clean the down comforter. I put the pillows out on the balcony to air, and found that a small nest of bees had been disturbed. I apologized, and retrieved the pillows. Where do I put a slightly-knocked-about tiny bee-home?
I can also see my mind get snagged on questions that I have not considered for a long time: can I continue sleeping on the matress on which my beloved took his last breath? (The pillow on which his head rested is long gone.)
Shall I take the time to deal with the pile of worn-out "arba kanfess" (holy---and holey---underwear)? I had planned to follow his custom: remove and save only the fringes, and give them away as bookmarks.
How much time can I afford to spend on his unfinished business, when I have so much unfinished business of my own?
The very discomfort of the questions tells me that there is movement.
The journey weaves in and out between the pleasant pastures and the valley of death.