On Holiday(s) from the fray

Taking time, making time, getting time, finding time, buying time. Finding home, making a home, coming home, missing home, leaving home. And then there’s entering a space, making space, taking space, leaving space.

Are all these comings and goings the spine of the physical and dare I say spiritual? After looking up the spelling of FREY vs. FRAY I learned that FREY is a Norse god said to “bestow peace and pleasure on mortals” while FRAY is unraveling, becoming worn at the edge. These words work together.

It’s the end of another year, today is December 28 and there is no snow in our Maine backyard. On Christmas day I raked some leaves and  cut some vines off the fence in my short sleeves and I wasn’t cold. Jack is home from college working on his music and Cora was sick with fever and a bacterial infection for three days, maybe four. We brought Christmas dinner up to her and ate with her on the floor of her bedroom. Charles had a couple of deadlines with design projects so I cooked in between the holiday meals and noticed how thin the dog is becoming with her illness and I finished a book I didn’t particularly enjoy while deciding I want to care about different things and clean out the basement. Ruthlessly. This week.

I want to find time to make space, to bestow peace and pleasure.