In working order. Almost.

{I can no longer hide my excitement.}


{Keeping good time.}


{Practising Emerson's advice.}


{Reading symbols formed.}


{Assembled at the agreed spot.}

Sickness or injury of any kind is humbling, and so it has been these past two weeks. A sore back has left me feeling like someone, at best, twice my age, as I hobble and limp and move tortoise pace. Where normally I could touch my toes with ease, legs straight and palms of my hands on the floor, now, tying up the laces of my sandshoes is a slow process as the whole lower area of my back burns. Yes, when the machine that is the body runs at less than optimum it is a humbling experience. I cannot imagine how it must feel for an athlete or dancer or circus contortionist, someone used to the incredible highs and dizzying feats of wonder their bodies can perform, when faced with a failing, aging, injured body.
 
This spanner in the works has rendered me less (though kitten therapy helps and old dogs prove loyal). Slowly shuffling towards Christmas. What December this has been! (Complete with department store melee.)
 
From a time when feeling less decrepit, less Bah of the Humbug, a festive wish from Louise and me shared with Leah and Janette of Milly Sleeping.
 
To both receive and give, we’d rather fancy the gift of a little quiet time to be spent as desired. Time to open a book and read it in one sitting, the process broken only by the need to cut another slice of chocolate ripple cake to ensure the belly remains full. Time to potter in the garden, gloves off, soil under fingernail. Time to lie in a hammock or stretched out on the grass. Time to snooze like your pets do year round. And time to be submerged in water, be it at pool or in the ocean, or feet dipped in a creek or body in a bath drawn and brimming with potions. Days and nights, a succession of them, to be spent as one chooses. In bright and noisy company. In the darkened cinema hush. In quiet seclusion. On a long walk. With purpose or ambling. Dreaming of the future.
 
Happy Christmas! May it bring something wonderful.
 
And here’s to the adventures ahead in 2013.

+ You can purchase Materiality (hard copy and digital) here, through Pinknantucket Press