The morning after a splendid dinner party looks like this:
Four people, five beverages, three courses = dishes to wash. Oh, but it went quickly and painlessly. Then I took naps. Three so far. We’re both feeling a bit out of it today, not sure why. Not hungover or anything, just slow and wobbly. Plus, it’s been raining steadily. Seasonal changes and changes in habit seem more noticeable as I grow older. That’s good, though. I want to be more aware; I want to slow down and notice life.
Tomorrow, we plan to head north into the upper peninsula of Michigan and camp in the Porcupine Mountains. I’ve never been there. I want to take lots of pictures and write blog entries in a journal to post when I return. I want to keep my eyes open and learn. I also want to figure out how to recycle the empty propane canisters for the Coleman stove. We’ve collected 5 now, and the best information I can gather from the Coleman website is that perhaps a steel recycling place will take them, perhaps not. I remember finding one in a fire pit once and digging out fibrous pieces that looked like asbestos or something. With any luck, we’ll find enough dry wood that we won’t need to use another one.
Today’s reading material was from the book of Job and Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. Radical affirmations of the mystery, sanctity and loveliness of life. “Have you comprehended the expanse of the earth? Declare, if you know all this.” I cannot comprehend, but I can love.