quiet

Living alone is a bit of a pain at times.

There isn't an extra hand, even a shorter one. No one tells me that is the wrong shirt, or shoes, or that my hair needs attention. When my the food is not wonderful, I eat it any way.

The house is quiet, unless I turn on a radio. I have the TV on a fair amount, but hardly ever with the sound on. Silent company it is! In my cabinet shop I had a TV that was on all the time. I rarely changed channels and never raised the volume, but when I looked up there was almost always somebody there in the shop with me.

Still, when tempted to make an effort to change the aloneness, I remember a bit from the Big Book. I badly paraphrase: “It is better to live alone in a cave alone and with a modicum of peace, than in a mansion with a cantankerous mate.”

Since I have no experience with living with an even mildly cantankerous mate, I need to be especially careful, I guess.

Lately I have had a few encounters with widows, tea/lunch type encounter. None were evil in any way, but none lit any candles. I have developed a friendship with a recent widow. When I told her I was not ready for a serious romance at this time, but that I sure could use a friend or two, she relaxed visibly!

It is monday morning and I have work to do!