I'm so glad it's September. I even like writing the word "September." That sinuous S, the "ember" that calls to mind a fireplace, the first hints of orange and yellow foliage. The first Step towards true autumn.
Being a phish victim really threw me. I lost access to my e-mail for a couple of days, which meant I lost access to friends. Even when I got back in, I had lost my address book. I also lost access to my Facebook account for a week, which not only cut me off from friends, but also from my farm.
Farmville may not be your cup of tea. It probably wouldn't be mine, either, if it didn't give me the chance to create what therapists always recommend: a safe place. I have a little glade with gentle stags peeking out from between the trees, I have a lighthouse, I have a Zen garden, I have a library...
It's peaceful, and it makes me happy. I hated being separated from it, especially now that I'm about to separate from the life I've led for 32 years as a librarian.
In the last couple of weeks, I've read a few books - Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, three of the Sookie Stackhouse novels (oh please, "True Blood" writers, do not let Eric die...), and Saturday by Ian McEwan. I'll get around to reviewing Packing for Mars on GoodReads, and I'll share, but in the meantime -- if you are planning to read it, be forewarned and give yourself more time than you think you'll need. Some pages took 10 minutes because they were so.damned.funny.
I've also spun, lots, both spindle and wheel, and I've gotten much more secure. In fact, at this point, I'd call myself a spinner. Not a good spinner, but a spinner none-the-less. Photos will follow, sometime in the next week or two.
Will I post more as a retiree? I hope so... In the meantime, I have one week to go. It's a surreal feeling, sort-of like something receding as I watch, or fading even while I'm in the midst. (Or, in a mist. Take your pick.) It's something I want to track, definitely in my journal, and also here.