Morning kitchen with sinkful of dishes, some of which are clean.
Last night's dinner: black-bean burritos in flaxseed wraps (because that's what I had), with a side of black olives and fruit cocktail (not mixed together). A friend had brought us a bunch of canned goods at some stage in the last year, for reasons that kind of escape me know, and I'm trying to use them up, as part of our Lenten eat-what's-in-the-pantry scheme. Canned fruit cocktail is one of those childhood things --- we frequently had a little bowl of some canned fruit with our dinner, I guess because that was something everybody would eat. Anyway, that made last night Nostalgia Night, I guess, although one thing I don't remember EVER having for dinner as a child is bean burritos. You could get them for lunch at school, and that was a novelty, but my mother never made them, that's for sure.
So today I've wrapped up a burrito for my husband to take for lunch, with the last hamburger from Saturday night, because it's his long day at school, and he'll need both lunch and dinner. I'll have the other burrito for either breakfast or lunch.
Seems to be raining at the moment. Cooler today, with a high in the mid-60s---yesterday the high was 80. I managed to walk a full five miles by bedtime, which puts me at 103.62 miles completed. Just over 16 miles left to walk!
Today when I go out I'll be praying specifically for the victims and families in the Nashville school shooting yesterday. The Head of School who died, Katherine Koonce, had been a friend of mine at Vanderbilt in the 1980s. We were Young Life leaders together, doing evangelical youth ministry, and while we were never close friends, and I hadn't seen her since college, she's someone I remember well and always liked: kind, down-to-earth, vibrant in her faith. This isn't the kind of thing where I am experiencing a particular loss, as of someone who has been part of my life in the present, yet I feel terrible grief at her death. She leaves a husband, whom I remember very well from our college days, and two children who are probably young adults --- she was a couple of years older than I am.
And of course the whole thing is an outrage, as every event of this kind is --- as is the fact that I can write "every event of this kind," and mean something that has become horribly commonplace.
And today the rest of us wake up, and life goes on. And we have to keep going on, because what's served by our lying down in the road? It has to matter, still, that we get out of bed, and dressed, and do all the trivial things that constitute the day for most of us, because however trivial those things are, they are our life. Doing the trivial things is our thanksgiving for that gift. It's also the affirmation of our hope. We live in hope that the trivial things matter, because to the God who made us, we matter. Even in the face of evil and its works, human lives in all their daily triviality have meaning. Even when we lay them down, or they are taken from us by senseless violence, human lives in all their triviality have meaning. To that final moment and beyond, every life resonates with meaning.
So here I am getting dressed again, as trivial as that is. I know it's trivial. That this blog is largely about the triviality of getting dressed makes me more humble than I would otherwise have been. It's a very great temptation to think that I'm too smart or too gifted or too . . . whatever, exalted, I don't know . . . to natter on about my clothes. I put myself through this exercise daily to remind myself that actually I'm not too good for all that. Also, I genuinely enjoy it, even though there's a part of me that thinks I shouldn't. On a day like today, in a week like this, an even larger part of me thinks that I shouldn't enjoy anything at all. People are dead: what right do I have to love the mundanity of my life?
But I do, and I've got to, and so here's what I did decide to put on:
For the cool but changeable weather, I thought Audrey would be a good choice. Blue Birks, just because I already had them on. Purple cotton cardigan (thrifted) for Lent.
I'd bought some modesty panels to wear with this dress, the kind you snap onto your bra straps. I like the way the panel works to cover cleavage --- I feel a lot more comfortable, and a lot less exposed. This pack came in colors that I don't necessarily love (black, really bright blue, really bright pink, etc), but the black works okay with this dress.
Still not my best color:
The blue glasses and purple cardigan help, though. And again, I do feel much more comfortably covered at the neckline. I think this pack has a pale pink panel, and ivory as well as bright white, so I might try switching those out. I also have a Kosher Casuals half-tank in dark charcoal gray on order, which might really work better as a matching under-layer for this dress. There will certainly be times when the neckline won't bother me, but for church and general wear, I would really rather not show that much.
Anyway, black does reflect my mood today.
3.33 miles walked this morning.
With that, on with the rest of it.
LATER:
Putting together my little 3-day travel capsule for the mountains, trying to anticipate slightly cooler and possibly crazier weather.
I think for the drive and afternoon tomorrow I'm going to wear Willow + navy leggings. This, basically, but with no socks and with different Birks, probably my Balis. I think I won't take the suede ones.
Then I'm taking:
Sierra
Fiona (I think, but I might switch her out for Maggie, we'll see)
+
purple leggings
the purple cardigan I'm wearing today
aqua alpaca cardigan (since Marly talked me into buying it)
purple polarfleece for chilly nights and mornings
hiking boots
2 pairs wool socks
underwear
This should do me. Three dresses is a lot for three days, I guess, but I have them, so why not take them and not wear the same dress days in a row? There's a radical idea. These are all dresses I can walk/hike in, layer with top layers to be warm, strip down to be cool, wear with or without leggings . . .
And it all fits in my daypack, so score. I'll wash my hair this evening so that I don't have to take shampoo with me, just my toothbrush and toothpaste.