It's a crazy world.

Early morning in Kingsbury.

Tiny little hamlet in northeast New York.

We actually have street lights, which I love.  They are not in front of my house, but I can see them in a couple of directions from my window.
Lately, at night, we often see
 flashing red lights, as the local sheriff enforces the 40 mph speed limit down Rte 4.  We applaud.

I am in my pajamas, and it is barely light out.  I went to bed early with a headache, and feeling exhausted.  I think I slept 9 hours, and apparently that is what I needed.
It is good to listen to your body, especially as you get older.  That's my thinking.

Now I'm eating a salt bagel, with a cuppa tea.  The dog has been out, the cats have been fed, the pellet stove is warming the room.   I plan on relaxing here for another hour or so, reading, catching up with emails.  This is my morning routine, and I love it.

All those years of being out the door at 6:15, to be at work, ready to start at 7:00am.........done.
Who knew retirement could be so lovely.
I look back, and remember that it felt normal, to be on the road in the dark, to hear the gates clanking behind me as I checked into a maximum security prison, day after day, to set up the clinic for inmates  who arrived every few minutes for my entire shift.  Then there were emergencies, fights, stabbings, cardiac issues, sick call, doctor's appointments, testing, lab and so much more.  Patients brought in sometimes in handcuffs, and sometimes leg chains.  Correction officers standing behind you at every turn.  For twenty years.

It felt NORMAL.

Why am I telling you this??  Because it occurred to me, that sometimes the most horrific things are made normal
Not right.  Oh, never.   Never right.
But in our perception, normal events.
And I am not telling you that it is necessarily a good thing.  It's not.

After I left the prison system, it took months before I computed that it was not my life anymore.  I had to readjust to the world outside of that freakish normal.  It was probably not that much different than a criminal who is released.

I watch the news, and I think.  How many people are fooled, that THIS is normal?  Or is this our NEW normal, now??
And then I go do something creative, because I can't absorb any more of it.

My solace is being able to stay home, weave, bake, just be myself.


This was a winner.  Rosemary parmesan bread.  And simple.  And delicious.......I could have eaten the whole loaf.

We had it with some ribolitta, which is synonymous with clean out the fridge soup.

And after two days of fighting with this warp, 50 yards of golden glow is on the AVL, and restocking towels is the order of the day.

My loom should be named "Serenity", cause that's what I find when I weave there.

My conclusion is:   this new normal we are about to experience is not normal.   It isn't, it can't be, it won't be no matter what anyone tries to tell us.
Prison wasn't normal, even after 20 years, it was never, ever normal.

Make your own normal, your safe place, your life the way you know it should be.  That's the only way for me.