I hauled wood the other day and I enjoyed it. It was harder than usual because of all the snow- we are having a ‘real’ winter this year and most of me loves it. As I was carrying in wood I thought, “I really enjoy living in a place where hauling wood is a ritual and I am glad my kids are growing up in a place that requires one to haul wood.” Of course my kids were no where in sight, but oh well. And when I shared this sentiment with my man I could tell he didn’t agree: maybe it is a New England thing. There was just something about bringing in wood for the wood stove that made me feel grateful. Grateful and capable. I tapped my inner pioneer woman for a few brief moments. Of course if I were a real pioneer woman I would certainly be dead by now.
If my two traumatic births hadn’t killed me, the two severe colds I have had this year surely would have done me in. I am usually the last one in our family to get sick and I usually get a milder version than everyone else. But not this year. At the beginning of the week I could hardly breathe and my man moved out of our bedroom for the second time in 6 weeks. It gave me a good excuse to stay close to home all week and most people have appreciated me not coughing germs all over them.
I did have an information session on Wednesday morning. One poor man showed up and patiently dealt with my coughing, sneezing and constant nose blowing. At the end of the session he wanted to shake my hand. As I reached out my hand I couldn’t help thinking, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” My hot sweaty hand had been gripping a balled up tissue most of the morning and in my mind it pulsed red with teeming bacteria. I probably shouldn’t have shaken his hand.
I am feeling better now and am still grateful for the cozy winter and gradually feeling capable again. And Costa Rica is only a bit over two weeks away. I can always cheer my man’s distress at this ‘real’ winter by pointing out that we picked a good year to get away.