There's no snow, Elizibeth wore flip-flops on our hike today, and I walked comfortably and barefoot out to soak in the spa and consider the advisablility of planting gerberer daisies in the containers out back. It's not the end of December as I knew it, but it's what I've got, so I'm going with the flow.
There is no traffic on the roads. The parking lot at the trailhead had plenty of spots when we arrived at 10:15am. Lines are non-existent in the grocery store and the mall lot is full only near the entrances to the movies. I'm not sure where everyone has gone.
It's winter in Tucson.
There are hours to go before we fall off the fiscal cliff. This is less imaginary than the Mayan-end-of-the-world-scenarios and yet only the talking heads seem to notice that it's going on.
I take the temperature of the populace at the manicure palace and on line in the market. The Mayans were the topic of conversation before during and after the end of the world; nobody's talking about how they'll manage when their take-home pay is drastically reduced.
That, in and of itself, feels like the end of the world to me.
The good news is that I hiked part of the Sweetwater Trail this morning.
The bad news is that I hiked part of the Sweetwater Trail this morning.
Every piece of connective tissue with even the most remote association to ambulation is announcing its presence with authority throughout my nervous system. I walked consciously, using my toes and ankles, holding myself up and out of my hip joint, taking big, bold steps and lifting my knees over uncertain terrain. My arms were swinging, my neck was long, my shoulders were secure. I am paying for that precision now.
It's a good kind of ache, a muscular, well-used exhaustion. I'm trying to ignore the fact that it took a little over a mile and 100' of elevation change to do me in.
All the laundry is done. The groceries and wine are laid in. Dessert fixings are waiting to surprise TBG as we spend New Year's Eve just the way we like it - at home, alone, with backgammon and gin rummy and a movie or two on the telly.
Tomorrow is about resolutions and the future. Tonight, I'm leading into the new year with the Beatles, the last lyric on their last album:
And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make..Happy New Year's Eve, denizens!