Odd, how we are. A day apart from the kids, and I'm adrift. Sometimes launching into some kind of declaration. "We're different, because we're forty, and we knew each other when we were twenty, and what we need as adults is far different from what was then. Our security means that we need something different. We're figuring out what it is." And he seems to agree, I suppose. But doesn't want to reply, not really.
We took down the tree and lights. Starting to clear out the house from the frenzy of the holidays. This is actually one of my favorite parts of the holiday cycle, when the house returns to what it was and what will really fit. It's like the cobwebs are swept and the anxiety can clear. I shall vacuum soon.
Feeling like I will be very productive when going back to work. I'm ready. Sort of energized. Nothing looms except the lingering oddness of this particular holiday.
It is extremely windy today. Reminds me of home and Colorado, where it is about three times windier than this. There's not as much atmosphere, of course, so the wind can actually reach speeds in excess of 120 mph easily. It blows steadily down from the mountains in a great whoosh. Makes everyone speedy and strange from the ions. Here it is different, far more moist, more the feeling of being hit by a wall of air, and it is live with more of a palpable presence. The air in Colorado can tend to wisp by despite the force of the gale.
People are surprised by my Wind in Boulder stories. Only if you've lived there do you know. Every once in a while it takes the walls off perfectly sturdy houses. Always our backyard littered with pieces of other people's roofs in January.