full moon fever

Normal
0

false
false
false

EN-US
X-NONE
X-NONE

MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

<w:LsdException Locked=”false” Priority=”73″ SemiHidden=”false”
UnhideWhenUsed=”false” Name=”Colorful Grid Accent 1″ />

<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed=”false” Name=”Medium Shading 2 Accent 6″ />

Another quiet day at the shop. January, the month of resolutions – to not spend frivolously, to lose weight – and also the month of many bills from Christmas. The tourists who come to the valley to mountain bike are in the mountains trying to ski. It is slow, slow, slow.

I was feeling a little better today. My ears are still plugged up, so I cannot wear my hearing aids. Fortunately, all of the regulars know I am hard of hearing and yell at me.

An old friend stopped by the shop to see me. She is another veteran, an MP, who rides with the patriot guard. She hadn’t heard from me in a while, so she stopped in to check on me. I used to meet her at the bookstore regularly to share our writing, but my husband’s girlfriend works there. It is awkward, so I only go in to buy books and get out. We are going to have to find a new place to meet.

A friend of mine is a Buddhist, or thinks she is. I don’t know what exactly makes one a Buddhist, if there is some sort of initiation or if you can just start saying you are one and that makes it so. Anyway, she has been studying for many years. We met for a walk this afternoon on Watson Island because the Botanical Gardens where we usually meet is closed for the month. In that vague, roundabout, dreamy sort of way many self-proclaimed Buddhists have of speaking, she asked me, “whoever decided that birds are free? They can fly wherever they choose, but if they have no branch to land on they might regret having wings in the first place. Perhaps true freedom is having a home to return to.”