After Night and Before Morning

I’m thinking:

This morning I got up quite early, lit a candle on the table and set the coffee pot a brewing, and started upon blank notebook paper with my sharpened pencils. I was determined to make some progress before the world woke up, and I hope that I can say I have made some at least. The funny thing about getting up so early is that it feels for a bit as if you’ve been transported to another world without time. A continuous dark has settled upon the world, a dark that does not seem to lift and stays pressed against the windowpanes. It is neither night, nor is it morning, but a time (or timelessness) in between. At times it feels like somebody has pasted blackened paper on the other side of the windows and if you could only get past it you would see a different world, but instead you continue to travel through a timeless space.  Perhaps it is what it feels like to be traveling about in a spaceship with no day or night by which to gage the passage of days. I can imagine those hours between night and morning as being somewhat similar to what it must feel like drifting about in a weightless, timeless orbit. I keep repeating the word “timeless,” don’t I? If I were listening to my inner editor I should immediately go back and erase the numberless usages, or quickly think of some other word that would be better fitting for my sentences, but at the moment I simply don’t mind. I don’t mind if I use the word “timeless” once or a dozen times in this paragraph, for I belong to a timeless word where time is too precious to be wasted fretting about silly things such as that- for time is so precious as there is no time at all.

 I’m reading:

 Actually, I’m in-between books. This of course shan’t last beyond a couple hours more before I go digging into my stacks and fishing up a new one to read. I just finished reading “Daddy-Long-Legs” and also “The Lioness and Her Knight” the second a book I read fully over a couple days worth of breaks at the library. It was an easy (yet really quite enjoyable) read, in which I could finish a full fifty pages over a break, so it didn’t take me long at all to finish.

I’m creating:

Well, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before or not but next Monday is the 200^th anniversary of the publishing of Pride and Prejudice, so I rather thought I’d write up a series of blog posts about various screen adaptations, but we’ll see how far I get. I have a couple starts to them, a few sentences at the top of the great many word documents I have open at this moment. The problem never is the beginning though, it’s what comes after that is tricky. I’m also at work on another knitted hat, exactly like the one I just finished, because that one turned out so nice.

 Outside my window:

It seems impossible that morning’s are ever stormy (of course they are and that statement’s simply ridiculous, but at the moment it seems impossible) for the pond is so glassy still, the trees all standing still and motionless as well, not a single breeze to be seen. Everything is still, as it seems like it ought to be in the morning time. Night and darkness is the time for wild winds and rattling of windows as raindrops hit them in a fury, but morning is a time of stillness, of awakening. You never see a thing wild with any great emotion just as it first wakes, would it make sense for the world to be so? For the morning to come roaring to life? To my mind it makes far more sense for it to wake gradually, coming more and more to life as the minutes pass, but very still just at first. Very still.

 I’m listening to:

 Celtic music. I’ve had it playing just about as long as the coffee pot has been brewing, so rather a  long time indeed.

 From the kitchen:

 On the topic of coffee, it won’t be long before I shall be needing to make another pot. The other one has grown quite cold by now, and Mom still needs to have her coffee so another pot I shall make.

 I’m hoping and praying:

 For snow. I really want it to snow. Well, perhaps I’m not exactly praying about snow, but I’m most certainly hoping. Other than that I am praying that I can stop fretting so much about things and trust that things will turn out exactly as they were meant to. It’s no help fretting and worrying, and I shouldn’t, and I know that, but the problem is I still do. So I need to stop.

 A few plans for the rest of the week:

 

Well, I suppose just continuing doing what I'm doing. Starting with finishing up this journaling page and getting back to work on Algebra. I'm planning on going to see Les Miserables again on Thursday though! Which will be a lot of fun! Oh and I'm also quite excited about Cabin Pressure on Wednesday, yay!