Tuesday, September 6, 2016

Labor Day: Tuesday's Reflection

All night long it seemed I was trying to order the day ahead. A
restless night after so many in a row of sleeping well. These nights of unrest happen sometimes. Perhaps it was the rain and early in the morning thunder and lightning, but probably not. Just one of those nights.

Bruce got up before 5:00 to get dressed for his last day of working at the State Fair. He has been a ticket taker –something different to do in his semi-retirement—and has thoroughly enjoyed the fair fun and atmosphere. I decided to turn on the light and read. I could have come up to the garret for morning devotions or to write this post or even to do what I hope is the last edit on a chapter for my memoir before I set it aside “at rest” and then start a new chapter. I know those tasks were on my mind during the restless night, along with thinking about painting the inside of the funky closet in the first floor bathroom, a task that has been on my list all summer long. Here it is Labor Day and I have still not done that task.

It was dark and cool and raining outside, and I wondered what stopped me from indulging in a time out for myself. Our houseguests were sleeping in the lower level guest room, and I certainly didn't want to wake them with any kitchen noise as I prepared breakfast or padded around on the first floor. 

And on my bedside table was the new Louise Penny book, A Dead Reckoning. Her most recent book in the mystery series set in Quebec. Over the past couple days I had been reading it, choosing times when I could read undisturbed for a good chunk of time, wanting to savor it. Evenings I sat in the snuggery, our name for our small front room just large enough for two reading chairs, and read. One day I sat at the table in the side garden, private and cool, and had my solitary lunch and read, allotting myself only a certain amount of time before returning to my desk. I read slowly, sometimes reading a paragraph or sentence more than once, not wanting to miss any detail, fully immersing myself into setting and the plot and fully being with the characters I love, but also wanting to slow down my own pace. Don't rush, I told myself. 

I know Bruce is eager to read it, too, but he is gone all day and tired when he gets home and is not reading much right now. Therefore, I don't feel pressured. Still, too soon I approached the end, and I was ambivalent, for once I read the last page I would have to wait a year or more for the next in the series. But I was also eager to know how it all turned out.

The only way to know the ending is to keep reading. To keep turning the pages.

I wasn't disappointed.

And the day is still ahead of me.

An Invitation

What is ahead of you today? I would love to know.  


  1. The book is on our coffee table as I write—a gift from friends. I am anxious to read it.

  2. Now it's my husband's turn. Such a treat.


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