Sunday Notes: Eggs In One Basket



Yesterday we dug up an unproductive tree.
The morning was soft sun on frost. We are chicken-sitting, and the brood followed close enough to keep my ankles warm while I filled the corn hopper.
Came back to the house with six eggs.
We were lazy till after breakfast when the sun warmed up and the ice wind dropped away. Then we tackled the garden jobs, and the tree that only leafs was consigned to the hedge, leaving room for a miniature orchard.
Healthy work: hot bath: glass of wine: sleep.
Today was an early start, and the ice wind had found its way back. We traveled to Bridgewater for Black Belt training, nursing hot coffee from a big silver flask. In two weeks our next Dan grading will be over. I think of this: only two weeks, and its done: so I can ride through the nerves.
Steel yourself, lady, with coffee and time!
I am nervous too about the book. On Tuesday there will be one thousand copies of the Tae Kwon-Do Time Travelling Tour Bus and Other Stories taking over our house, representing precious work and efforts and pushing through comfort zones using all of my savings. Too late to back out, which causes a kind of claustrophobia: one thought uncomfortably close and restrictive:
What if I see it and I don't like it?
How did I carry the eggs back to the house yesterday? Loose in a plastic bowl, one handed, casual. 



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