Now when I wake up, the sun is shining brightly. Actually, even in the winter, I wait until the sun is up before getting up. It just makes no sense, hanging out in the dark in the morning, waiting for the sun to rise. I could tend to the horses early,in the dark, but it’s harder in the dark to find the horse poop.

However, now the sun is up early, so I am getting up and getting going earlier.

Pete suggested that we put cardboard on the bedroom window because he does not like having the sun in his eyes at such an early hour. I don’t know if he’s kidding or not. Maybe he should get a pair of sunshades that dowagers wear in movies. This seems like an acceptable compromise to me.

I spent a better part of the day downstairs at the Meeting House, sorting and categorizing the nonfiction books. It is very cave-like in the basement – I decided that I am no longer going to work there on days when the sun is shining brightly and the temperatures are above 30˚ F because these days are rare.

It’s going to be a great place for winter activity.

I had to make a lot of categorical decisions. This required considerable focus on my part. I had the books in their boxes, on the shelves that Bill built – and attempted to categorize further – the boxes labeled writing – and I started in on this and realized that I could not do this. I had done enough. The word to describe how I felt is – fried.

I suspect that if I went to categorize these very same books, fresh, that this task would have my full and undivided attention. If the weather holds, this isn’t going to happen.

There has been a problem at the Meeting House – an itinerant has thrice gotten in the building and twice spent the night there. He has been getting in the unlocked door. Since I am there all the time, I am presumably the one leaving the door unlocked.

I am absent minded – this is because I have single minded intensity of focus. Most of the time, I feel good about this. Those of us who have this gift get great things done. It is not so good when other things need to be tended to.

I make sure that all the gates around our place, including the driveway gate, are securely latched. Once in a great while, I leave a gate unlatched. And so, it has seemed to me to be odd that I would leave the Meeting House door unlocked.

Today, I locked it at 3:00 P.M. Then I went over to U-Haul to check on books that we’ll be distributing on Monday. Then I returned to the Meeting House, and again made sure that I’d locked the door. It was unlocked. It is deadbolt lock, activated and deactivated by numbers.

Pete said to me that most likely the bolt is hitting a plate and bouncing back. I can picture this, so I am in full agreement with him.

I thought that I was losing it. This is a very scary feeling. I am not losing it. This is a very good feeling.

Next: 69. 3/10/23: March is Easy to Spell