The new little washer/dryer combo cheerily spins from the next room.  Its intermittent insistent noise says “industry” to me.  I’ve been writing for the last hour and talking with a friend online, but the morning draws towards noon and I must motivate myself to  get to going.  The machine works; how can I do less?

But I feel slothful after a long stressful week.  No, my dears, Mama Corinna does not complain. She survived this week, after all.

I think about so many who have not survived.  Then I recall Robert Graves’ speech for Claudius:  “Some say that I am half-witted; well, that might be so.  Why is it then that I have survived to middle-age with only half my wits, while thousands around me have died with all of theirs intact?  Evidently quality of wits is more  important than quantity.”  (Graves, Robert; “I, Claudius”, BBC production, based upon the book by Robert Graves, 1934).  I feel what he means:  I stumble through life without everything that others brag of having but still, here I am, stumbling forward.  Persistence must count for something.

I realize the rain has stopped and a soft light rises from the porch.  The flowers which I planted two weeks ago shimmer, the water on their leaves catching the sun’s rays as they break through the remaining clouds.  Although I have been awake since six, I have not yet dressed — I’m still padding around the house barefoot in my too-large, soft, leopard-print pajamas.  I find  myself laughing at my laziness but the  laughter feels good and echoes out into the yard.

I go back inside the house and start thinking about getting something done.  What shall I choose?  I’ve lots to occupy my time, though mostly chores — at least until Jenny Rosen calls and we go on our pilgrimage to the great consumer mecca, Ikea.  In the meantime, I might  carry laundry down.  It’s hard work, being alive and adult; but I’m not complaining.