sprung, and with it has come a heightened sense of urgency about most things. Spring definitely makes me aware of the things that I neglected to do once winter rolled in.
Mid-morning, Pete and I drove across town and assisted three others in assisting a homeowner in divesting himself of his wife’s possessions. I mainly focused on dismantling a woman’s library. The other two women sorted through her art supplies. Now I would have liked to have been in on the art supply heist, but it seemed to me to be too chaotic. So, I instead went downstairs, and by myself I finished boxing up books. This was my contemplative time.
Pete and I took the truckload of books to the meeting house – they filled the library room. Once again, I grew anxious, wondering how in hell I’m going to find appreciative readers wanting to take them on. But it will come to be.
When we got home, Pete worked on the newsletter and getting our new color printer working. He managed to do both, and so tomorrow I’ll have enough on hand to pass out to those who come to check out the distribution site.
I grabbed four fold-up bookcases when I was dismantling the library. They fit well in my study. I filled them with books that have been lying around.
I did not ride the horses today. Instead, I did agility. Horse time is a big part of the contemplative life. Tomorrow, maybe I’ll ride the inside horse on the carousel.
Next: 113. 4/24/21: And the Question is. . .