I am anticipating a shabbos guest, sister of last week's guest. The bed is made with freshly laundred linen; the kitty litter is cleaned. (Guests share a bathroom with Mishka the cat.) I see, now that I have unpacked the groceries, that I overbought, out of dread that heaven forbid any guest should experience one single hunger pang in my house.
But before bringing it all home, I parked at Viele Lake and walked, enjoying everyone else's doggies, the few fellows fishing, the littler kids on bikes. The geese are all visiting somewhere else, and I miss them.
Early tomorrow morning I go to a well-recommended eye doc in a neighboring town for a second opinion about the eye that was doing so well and now seems to have regressed.
It occurs to me that you never know what can happen in a day, so it might be wise to haul out the pressure cooker and make the shabbos soup before going to bed. The zucchini looked so robust that I decided on a zucchini/leek/potato bisque, the kind that is tasty both hot and cold. It's a sort of peasant version of a vichyssoise. (sp?)
This week I have found myself regretting the times I could have spent with my beloved, when he was travelling to family, and did not because I was exhausted. I am aghast, in retrospect: how could I have let slip away any chance to be with him? And yet I do remember: I was exhausted.
Now---I would give anything to have that choice back, and do it differently.
Wishing us all a deeply restful and healing shabbos.