It’s Sunday evening after a 3-day weekend. I’m so pleased with myself. I had an agenda for the weekend and I ticked off most of my items. Since my agendas are usually very ambitious, most is a good thing. My baby boy is coming home to visit on Tuesday and I’ve been a whirligirl of activity getting ready for him. Well, no, not really. But I got a lot done.
My method, this time, was frenetic bursts of activity punctuated by long periods of rest and relaxation. This puttering method worked out well. I’m pleased with all that has been accomplished and at peace with what still needs to b e done.
I celebrated myself and my accomplishments by drinking wine and watching candle flames flicker. Try as I might, I can’t get the camera to capture what I see as I sit on the couch and survey the coffee table/altar.
There’s a train off in the distance that sounds mournful, but which makes me feel snug and safe. It’s been a good weekend to be me.
W. Va. Fur and Root 
I’m so used to the trains going by all day and all night..I don’t even hear it..when we had the explosion that one part of the track was bent and shoved over 10 feet so the trains couldn’t get thru.no one in town could sleep…so used to the trains that when we didnt hear them we couldn’t sleep..
I seem to only hear the one that rumbles through at about 10 p.m. It’s a great sound and warms my heart every time I hear it. When we first moved out here, we couldn’t sleep for it being too quiet. Now I go elsewhere and can’t sleep for all the street noise. We’re interesting creatures, we are, we are.