This is my third try at a blogpost today, maybe this one will work. I might need a turkey leftovers sandwich to have the energy to get through this. Sounds good, I think I will get that out of the way right now!
OK, good one, washed it down with some cherry jello. We are eating a lot of
that these days, trying to improve our nails as the chemo tears them up so. Now no excuses, we’re fueled up and ready to go.
The toughest time of the year for me to get through is happening right now, the old bleak mid winter. The long darkness in the evenings is just ridiculous. Come June I will be outside trying to take advantage of all the daylight and work up to 9:30 at night. Now at the end of December it is getting dark five hours before that. What to do?
At Our Jennifer’s I came across a quote that was by Anonymous and went, “You only know a year if you have seen all four seasons.” Good, I get that. But what to do with winter, really? I am just not at one with it. There must be some way to use it and make it work for me. Seems like there is only so much TV one can watch and only so may books one can read.
I do find myself daydreaming of spring when the rains slack off and the sun dries out the soil and that magic medium starts warming up enough to germinate seeds. It is always such a miracle to watch those little seeds start that rampage of growth, amazing. I feel Pilgrim Farmer Juan reading over my shoulder enjoying this. Of course, he plants a thousand seeds for every one I plant but the rush is the same regardless.
But this all is not stopping us from walking these days. I was out today with Cynthia, a new walking partner who has done the Camino Norte. And it looked pretty darn Norte out there with lots of rain/snow mixed. And she busted a hole in her rubber boots to boot. Always something. And there was mist between the dark green firs. And the alders were showing reddish and the willows a yellowish to complete the subtle palette. The beauty in winter is a subtle one for sure.
Well back to work tomorrow. And doing my regular walk in the morning and an additional one late in the day for some folks coming from Seattle on pilgrimage. Yea, I am starting to realize that this here, this little Camino, is a pilgrimage for folks. They are coming to experience something different, something special.
OK, look at us, we got a blogpost hammered out on a dark evening in the bleak midwinter, no problemo. Thank you for being here. 
No problemo loves, Felipe.
This winter thing is long and dark… I dream of spring and soil giving forth also. Our friend Mary Ann is now done with treatment. She is signing up for hospice. They are going to the Mayflower Hotel in Seattle this week, for a night, as they have celebrated twice before there. Pray with me that she has energy enough to enjoy this 50 year marriage man in this place that is special to them. A short and sweet camino.
Michelle ~ hello, you must check in more often. Yea, the winter dark thing. It is a challenge to keep on top of it. I was out for two walks today and was looking at my corn patch. I have a cover crop of rye and vetch on there and am putting some wood ash on tomorrow. Yea, can’t wait for that warm soil.
Ah, Mary Ann. Could we get together another little tapas party? We could do it here or there or your place. Would you check?
Alright, don’t be a stranger. Always liked that phrase. The best to you this New Year’s, love, Felipe.
Phil, I will check in with them. I know they have wanted another tapas party.
I am spreading wood ash also. All that goodness from growth, ready to go around again… Soil is so amazing.
I know your year does not revolve around school time, but mine still does, as does Rebecca’s. I hope I walk with you next week. Much to talk about my friend. love and mercy, Michelle
Michelle ~ yes, please come and walk and remember your rubber boots. I will post the current schedule on the blogpost today. Later, love, Felipe.