Last night was another technology-free night for Eric and I. We do it once a week. It does a person good to unplug for a while. I gave him a haircut for the first time, with mediocre results. We had a picnic of bread, cheese, sausage and olives. We drank a bottle of wine and played Trivial Pursuit. Then we went to bed and I read aloud to him Rachel Carson's essay, "Undersea" from the book of her posthumously discovered writings, Lost Woods. It was too beautiful not to read out loud.
I've felt lately like making things. Considering art. Remembering sewing. The afghan I started in the fall and never returned to. Building things with wood. Scavenging things to be repurposed, renewed. Eric says there's solid oak from an old church pew lying in a pile of scrap wood in the shop. We've been talking about buying canvasses and paint. He and I could do so many things.
I guess I could start by taking in the Christmas lights in from the porch.