I finished final layout on the November Horizons Magazine last night and then went to bed at a reasonable hour, 9:00pm.  Of course, that meant I’d be up at midnight, 3 hours later and I was.  I gotta bless menopause for making my sleep consistent: three hours from start to finish, no matter what.  I love being up in the middle of the night.  It’s quiet, and I love the quiet.  In fact, because of the quiet factor I think it may be hard for me to ever share space with a mate. My cousin has been a roommate for most of this year and, for the most part, he keeps to himself, writing code or whatever it is he does.  He watches movies, headphones on at his laptop, so I don’t often have to deal with hearing his tv or radio. It’s an ideal situation, if I must share space: everyone being self contained and not space-invading each other.

I lived alone for several years after my husband passed, and in 1999 I decided to invite my widowed father in law to move in with me.  He was in his 80’s, he lived alone 3 miles away and was in good health.  He was always such a quiet man and I did not anticipate any problems.  The only thing I didn’t factor in was that he was a tv watcher.  Living alone and in and out of monastic communities, I’d forgotten about things like that.  So during the day he’d watch Jerry Springer and all the court shows, and at night it was news and wrestling.  And he was hard of hearing despite 2 hearing aids, so everything had to be loud. Really loud.

I did not regret my decision to have him move in.  Rather, I took it as an opportunity to deepen my practice, and to see how much of my calm and centeredness I could maintain in the midst of blaring distraction.  It was quite a yoga. There was a wonderful peace at night after he’d turned the tv off about midnight.  I could feel the house hum with the suddenly quiet airwaves.  So being up after midnight is a particularly favorite thing to do.

The temperature dropped to below 60 overnight, and when I went outside about 1:00am, it was nice and freezie feeling.  I had on my sweats and yard boots.  The only problem with walking with shoes on outside in the dark is I can’t always tell where I am on the path.  That’s a favorite barefoot thang to do –  know if I step on this root that I will turn to the left in just 2 more steps, without having to stop and get my bearings every few moments.  Remember, when you live in a wooded area where foliage grows fast, the landscape changes weekly.

Being so chilly outside, there was less critter activity than usual, everyone snuggled into their burrows.  I could hear something stomping around half a lot away, likely the armadillo family.  They’re noisy and seem somewhat deaf and blind.  I’ve had them walk right over my feet as I sat quietly outside.  If I move, it startles them and their bodies jump straight up in the air, like a cartoon armadillo.  I like listening to the night sounds and the critter doings in the quiet of the after midnight hours.

Now it’s barely 10:30am on Sunday morning, and I am loving just sitting here typing, in my giant flannel lumberjack shirt, sweats and shepherd booties, listening to the windchimes outside, watching the squirrels chase each other through the oaks.  I planned to go to Unity of Melbourne and then to the Cocoa village craft fair, but now all I want to do is hang around here in the quiet and make my spicy Asian style shrimp and asparagus soup.

Maybe I’ll do that now and go to the craft fair later .

Since the mag is done, I’ve got all day

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