I’ve often thought that language gets in the way of our thinking. One word generally leads to another, which leads to a complete thought, which leads to several, seemingly unrelated thoughts. This is the stuff dreams are made of.

Tonight I’m tired. It was a long day at the recycling center. I got there at noon. Books that on Saturday had been in one area had been moved to another area. I had them in some semblance of order. Pete brought in a scale and assisted me in weighing and moving the ready to go children’s books to the upper foyer.

I was then on my own. I arranged the boxes in rows and then I went through each box and made sure they contained like-material. Most did not. This took me

Alys in the big Box

most of the afternoon. It was, as it always is, an onerous task. I mean, what do you do with a box full of information on particle board? I kid you not – such a thing does exist. And first the sorters, and now I know that someone is going to want this treasure. I can’t see charging for this. I might pay someone a dollar to take it away. I mean particle board – yeech.

Carla, the bookstore book stacker, came in late in the afternoon and worked on organizing books on the shelves. She did a beautiful job. I put books on shelves, and it appears as though they’re ready to jump out of their skin. She puts books on the shelves, and they go ahhh.

Next to the left-hand wall and spilling out the door are at least 20 boxes of children’s books, ready to be cleaned and labeled. My friend Sarah is going to take 10 boxes total to her school in on the military base.

I ate a lunch that Pete made me this morning, a cheese guacamole sandwich with tomato, at 4:30 p.m. I was so hungry that it was the best sandwich I ever ate.

I came home and took the dog and Tinni for a walk around the loop. The sun was setting, and for once, my mind was a blank. All day, I’d been dealing with spoken and written words – it was as if the portion of my brain that processes speech and whatnot had decided to shut down.

The whatnot – all that mental clutter that I think that I can’t live without. A lot of it has sentimental value. I think sometimes that without it, I’d just be a shell of my former self.

I sometimes think that the horses and dog tire of my endless mental prattling and are relieved, as Tinni must have been, by my mental silence. Something to strive for, for sure, more mental quietude. I should resume meditating, but right now I still lack time. If it’s a question as to whether to sleep for an extra half hour or to meditate, I will choose the extra half-hour of sleep.

Have I said anything of importance here? I think not. But thank you for reading what I have written.

Next: 36. 2/5/20: We are the Champions