I thank today’s power outage for directing me to a new favorite reading spot: leaning against a cushion directly under the low window in my room.  When the power conked this afternoon, I discovered that I had no immediate tasks available to me; all of my necessary work right now involves computers.  So I went to my room, prepped my oil lamps for the possibility of a powerless evening, and then read by the light of my window until dinnertime.  Framed by a viney plant and a shiney mobile, my windowspace felt nurturing and magical.
(PS: the book I’m reading right now is one of the best I’ve ever read.  The Bone People by Kerri Hulme.  It was a hard start because her writing style is so funky and akward, and then it suddenly becomes inescapably compelling.)

The rain cooled the commune today, both in temperature and in energy.  Whew.  There’s still a lot going on, and it all doesn’t feel quite so spasitic.  Or maybe I’m just exhausted.

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