“The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.”
-Archilochus
Another year has passed, and now I understand the aphorism "the days are long but the years are short." It seems that last Christmas, with all its zoom calls and covid restrictions, was not that long ago.
The Christmas Kahlua turned out pretty good. I suppose that was one of the few bright spots about this holiday. Mid-December brought heavy rain, and a roof leak which led to water damage in the garage. Turns out that roof leak created a large section of dry rot on the roof sheathing. Insurance will pay for most of the repairs, and the adjuster's estimate clocked in at $4,900 (less the $1,000 deductible).
The roof was repaired yesterday, just in time for the next rounds of rain. Apparently, Northern California is in the middle of "atmospheric river" and could see significant rain over the next 10 days. The meteorologists from the 90s used to call it the Pineapple Express, given flow of moisture from out in the Pacific Ocean.
I'm babbling, and feeling ungrateful for all the complaining about the holiday season. I am not one to make New Year's resolutions, but beginning January 1, 2023, I will attempt to post once per day here on this site. Even if it is simply an image, or a quote, I hope to reflect daily on the positive things in my life. Maybe that will get me out of this funk of feeling the weight of everything that is happening in my life.
The past several holiday seasons, I have made limoncello to give as gifts to friends and family. I perfected the recipe and it received wonderful reviews. But, it is time for a change. This year, I have decided to make Kahlua. So, yesterday while it was lashing rain all day, I simmered about two gallons of water, instant coffee, brown sugar, and dark brown sugar for over three hours.
Now, it's bottled with a whole vanilla bean and some vodka. The recipe calls for letting it sit in the dark for weeks, with agitation daily. And, that is a perfect metaphor for my life right now. I feel like I am sitting for weeks on end, but agitated daily. Meanwhile, I am looking forward to the results.
Wrapping up a week off work. While I did not devote much time to completing my dissertation (like I had originally planned), it was nice to have time with family and friends.
Brought the succulents inside due to overnight frost warnings. They now occupy the workbench that I once used for my letterpress machines. It's a fitting metaphor—nature reclaiming the machines.
Now, to dive back into this dissertation before winter break and apathy sets in for good.
I say this to myself a lot.
I especially say this to myself when things get hectic. For example, when I think about the progress I have made on my dissertation and research, I think it could get worse. Here I am in mid-November and I am still polishing the first chapter (Introduction) while diving into the second chapter (literature review).
And, I wonder how I am going to finish by May. So, ya...
It probably could get worse
Is it a pessimistic perspective? Perhaps.
Is it a coping mechanism? Maybe.
Is it a declarative statement that always holds true? Not necessarily.
Maybe it is simply a reminder that things could go the other way, too. It probably could get better.