The best-laid plans

 

My social life got in the way of my creative goals today, but it made it a good day. The weather was perfect for patio entertaining, which made it even better.

My day began with a message from Linda, a dear friend who moved to Taos last year—from Granbury, so it’s not like I saw her frequently, but still I knew she was fairly close and would occasionally come by. She’s only a medium communicator, so there are long stretches when we’re not in touch, and I was delighted today to have a chance to catch up. Moving is always hard, and she’s feeling that—three major real estate transactions in one year. Her first winter in Taos, although she’s spent many summers there. I expect after a year, she’ll be totally happy and acclimated, but the change is hard. She misses her Texas friends, and we miss her.

Linda’s covid report was most interesting. She is appalled at the absence of masking in Texas. In Taos, she cannot make a dinner reservation without including proof of vaccination. She also has to show that at most public events, and she says you never ever go to church or the grocery without your mask. She keeps one on her wrist most of the time and says it is off and on several times a day. From the start of pandemic, New Mexico has always been stricter than Texas. But then, so have many states. Our county alone had over 7,000 new cases (it doesn’t say what period that covers, but the spread level is a red alert high).

Linda came at three when the patio was warm and sunny. In fact, the sun was so strong I had to look the other way or shield my eyes. By happy hour when Mary and Prudence came, the sun had sunk below the neighbor’s garage, but the evening did not bring on as much chill as I expected. We were quite comfortable sitting out there and had a wide-ranging discussion on everything from omicron, schools, politics, and books. Love it when we talk about ideas and not always things or people.

My bit of trivia for the day—which turned out not to be so trivial. Someone posted on Facebook about the dark ages’ custom of two sleeps. Apparently until the Middle Ages, people had two sleeps—one in the evening, and one in the morning. The custom stems, according to the poster, from the days of cave dwellers when someone always had to be awake to tend the fires and to ward of any predatory beasts that might be after food, animals, or even humans. I thought the fact was interesting if irrelevant in today’s world until I read some responses. People wrote to say they were relieved to find that they were not insomniacs but were simply following ancient body clocks when they were awake from 2:00 to 4:00 am or thereabouts. Pru said tonight she is usually awake form 2:00 until almost 5:00, just gets back to sleep when it’s time for her husband to get up—I remember that from the days I too was married to a surgeon. I generally sleep soundly until 5:00, even 6:00 but then I am semi-alert for Sophie to need to go outside. After she does and I entice her back in with a bit of cheese, I can go back to sleep for an hour or so, and I find myself really looking forward to that second sleep.

When we talked about this tonight, Mary said she sleeps about five hours a night (I would be a walking zombie) and cannot nap during the day. It makes her fuzzy headed. I on the other hand can sleep a solid two hours in the afternoon, and often do. Linda and I talked touched on napping when we talked about routine. She said that was one of the things she had to learn. She thinks I have long known it in my career, whereas she was in retail for what? Thirty or forty years. Whatever, the reason, we found that these days our routines are similar: in the mornings, she paints, and I hope to write; afternoons, we rest, though I suspect I am more devoted to a daily nap than she is. She often uses afternoons to read. But evenings we part company—she says dark comes so early in New Mexico, she has to force herself to stay awake until nine, and she is up early. I find myself at my computer often until midnight, but I am sleeping later and later in the mornings. My routine also includes regular meals—something for breakfast but not much, usually around nine-thirty; lunch near twelve-thirty, and supper at seven or seven-thirty. The late evening hour is an accommodation to the Burtons’ schedule that I have learned to make—sometimes I get a bit hungry and snack.

But I am a big believer in routine—and today, mine got thrown off, which is why now, at eight-thirty, I am about to start my thousand words for today on Irene Keeps a Secret. Wish me luck--or unexpected inspiration.