Nearing shabbos once more

I wakened in time to fly to early morning minyan; but by the time I shoveled the snow off the front walk, it was too late.  I watched, throughout the day, as the shoveling I had done in the morning proved to have been completely superfluous by late afternoon, when it all had melted.

I am still wrangling with the business of moving all my affairs from the remains of my old beloved bank to the nearby credit union.  It has been a drawn-out pain in the neck, informing, calling, switching automatic payments, waiting for new checks, getting used to differently carried-out transactions.  The good news is that they are very willing to help at the nearby credit union; and it is quite nearby.

I received in the mail an unexpected and very generous gift from...¿a new friend?---of a few bottles of fine wine and an excellent dedicated milchig knife.  (I remembered my father's custom never to give a knife lest it cut the friendship; we decided it is here on long-term loan.)  There is still wine open and resting on its side in the  refrigerator waiting for tomorrow evening to grace the shabbos table.  But next week...

Tonight there was a concert by one of the gems of Boulder, a small and superb women's chorus, Sound Circle.  There was cello, and nickelharpa as well.  What a rich, fulfilling and splendid time-out-of-time.
It was a gift to the heart; but also opened my heart, so that I feel immediately and keenly how I wish I could have shared it with my beloved.
I don't know if this ever goes away.
Thank you for reminding us of the Emily Dickenson poem...

I wish us all a sweet and deeply restful shabbos.