This week has left me alternately ranting and speechless. Between insurance frustrations, the seemingly unavoidable “this is worse than we thought and it’s gonna cost more than we planned” home renovation revelation, and the horrifying events at the US Capitol, it’s been… a lot.
So after getting my brain sampled (i.e. a Covid swab test) this afternoon in preparation for an upcoming medical procedure, it seemed like a good time to take a walk and clear my head. I kept said head warm with a new lid, this one a Christmas present from Steve, a pleated wool bucket/cloche in a lovely shade of merlot.
I haven’t resorted to drinking any merlot yet, but I haven’t ruled it out.
The light snow we got today had stopped falling by the time I made it outside, but there was still enough white stuff on the ground to make for some pretty views across the park as the sun dropped. Not far from me, a couple pulled their happily shrieking child along on a sled, and a black lab romped through the slush, chasing a ball. I felt myself began to breathe a little deeper, a little easier.
I was pleased to discover that the new hat blended perfectly with the plaid wool wrap I brought back from our trip to Scotland in July 2019. Wearing it takes me back to another gray, chilly day, one on the Isle of Skye, and a cozy showroom filled with fleece and all manner of warm, woolly items at the SkyeSkyns tannery. After shopping, we had tea and cake in a yurt, then huddled up in our Waternish lodgings to watch the play of light and rain on the loch below.
Perhaps, in another year or two, I’ll don my merlot hat and be transported back to a snowy afternoon walk followed by a mug of hot chocolate, or a quiet Christmas morning spent in flannel pjs, giggling at kitten antics.
For now, its pleats are keeping my bald head toasty on a wintry day’s walk. As I eyed the scaffolding climbing the sides of our house, I kept thinking there’s a metaphor in there somewhere. You have to tear out the rot before you can mend the roof. When you’re clearing out and fixing up, things often look worse before they get better.
Here’s hoping. May next week be a bit less eventful for everyone.
Still Life, Beyond Cancer 