Fausto accidentally (I think) smashed a traditional vase we had bought in Okinawa when we first moved there.  We came home to a guilty looking cat and shards of pottery everywhere in the entryway.  Things are ephemeral I suppose.

The weather is finally turning colder and I shivered a bit in my thin raincoat walking home from work.  It is nearly dark by four o’clock.  It is hard to believe I lived so long on a semi-tropical island.  The waning light doesn’t depress me like it might for some; I suppose my ancestors were stoic about the shortening days and the ones who weren’t didn’t survive long enough to become anyone’s ancestors.

And yet, work is annoying, my officemate is annoying…my shoes hurt my feet and nothing is really any different but I have hope they might be better soon.  The Christmas lights are pretty outside and the grocery store had strawberries that did not cost an arm and a leg and actually tasted quite good.  Tomorrow is Friday.  This time last year I lived in a hotel and felt stagnant and cold; I felt the sting of mortality and struggling lungs venturing out to the bookstore in zero degree windchill in the same thin coat.  Now I am surrounded by my own books and cat and the life that has manifested over the last several months slowly like a nascent  bit of coral.  Each year gets a little better perhaps and I tell myself I am doing the best I can, there is never quite any time like now.