This Saturday we are having the second day of cool weather, extraordinary for one of the first days of summer. The last two nights, cool enough to have several layers of lightweight linens over me, have been super for sleeping and dreaming. How long will this last? I cannot say. Right now, it feels good to be here, carefree.
I have been traveling a lot, of late. No, I have not actually driven down the highway (which is the only way I would go any distance these days, were there the need to go. I will not get on another plane again, if I can help it.). I have sat reading. I rediscovered books in my small library, books I acquired somewhere along the way; glad that I kept them. Not only have I been to the desert with Carlos Castaneda and Don Juan, via Journey to Ixtlan, but have traveled to other dimensions through A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L’Engle. In turn, my dreaming at night has been vivid and constant, even though I can barely remember what I dream. My fantasies I had a few years back, (as I worked at my thankless job) about being retired, are materializing. Simple as it may sound, to sit at home and read all day long, if I wish, is a joy.
When the generator stopped working, I despaired. What would I do at night with no electricity? We had several weeks of rainy and overcast weather, thus the battery bank was not charging. I tried reading with my “Mag-light.” That was not working, as I had to hold the heavy flashlight. Tiring as it was, I lasted only a little while trying to read before going to bed. I gave up and went to bed by 9:00 P.M., just as it got dark. I adapted, and have been getting at least nine hours of sleep. A few nights, at two or three A.M. my cat, throatily mewing as she brought me a gift of a dead mouse, depositing it on the rug, woke me. I got up, picked up the little critter and took it outside, then, back to bed. I think she may have caught all the mice, for now. Two days ago, my neighbor gave me one of his old head lamps. I sit up longer now, reading, falling asleep in my chair. This retirement thing, not having to worry about being somewhere the next day, is good. Plus, I travel!
The other thing I am free to do is catch episodes of programs that have been online for at least two years, via Netflix. I no longer use the television, as it drains the battery bank. The laptop pulls less energy; I signed up with Netflix online. With nothing pressing to accomplish, I can travel the world with “An Idiot Abroad.” It is entertaining, and helps me remember why I have not had any strong desire to leave home.
I can relate to the “Idiot” Karl, the person the camera follows as he travels around the world. Completely honest, reluctant to leave his comfort zone, the butt of the producers’ (they are also his friends) jokes, and quite uninhibited with his perception of whatever he experiences, he elicits from me laughter as well as compassion. I am a sucker for the underdog, the one most consider too simple, the guy everyone thinks is not quite as smart as they are. This series does not skimp regarding what one might see, smell, hear, and feel when traveling to many parts of the world. Karl, exposed to the less-than-luxurious ways to travel in a foreign country, experiences many of the places and sorts of people and situations the glossy travel brochures do not advertise. When he gets back home to London, he has a deeper appreciation for his own life that is really quite simple, epitomized with “tea and a biscuit.”
As I pull myself away from traveling with Karl, I hear the hummingbirds outside my cabin, see the lush green foliage of the forest, experience the peace and quiet in this area, and know I need not go anywhere. It is Saturday, and not much is going on: a simple life with cats, dogs, deer walking through my “yard,” a garden flourishing down the road, sunlight and cool weather. It is Saturday here in these woods, carefree and good.