"Three Days Before, And For Three Days After"

♚

There is not much e-mail traffic for the last couple of days. I don't know how much the winter storms in the Midwest and the Atlantic coastal areas have to do with it. The area I live in appears to be protected from some of these winter storms by it's proximity to the ocean.

The center of the storm that followed along the leading edge of a cold front drew moisture from the Gulf of Mexico and as it moved north along the front edge of the cold front it snowed. But, that all happened west of here in the piedmont and mountain areas of North Carolina.

That interaction between the approaching (or descending) Montreal Express pulled in warm air from the Atlantic Ocean that also fed the precipitation, but that warm ocean air sweeping across the coastal plains kept it warm enough to prevent any accumulation of snow here. It was for sure a dank, howling wind cold. Just above freezing with a gale wind whistling through the pines, but when the front passed and the sunshine returned the roads were all clear and the crisp air practically sparkles with light.

My bossy sister-in-law decided it was time to harvest the first wheatgrass we planted. There were two trays that were mature enough to start snipping the tops off to put in my new juicer. She brought one over here for me to partake of, and took the other one to her house to put through her own juicer.

I was in the middle of fixing up some brown rice to get something in my belly when she brought the wheatgrass. It's not exactly the health food kind of brown rice, but a microwavable steamer bag of instant rice. I mix it with some white spaghetti sauce and plenty of salt and pepper and eat it like I'm dining out at the Savoy.

My sister-in-law hung around for a bit urging me to put some of the first wheatgrass in my juicer to celebrate the winter solstice, but I already had the rice going, so I put it off until today. The solstice season last three days. "Three days before. Three days after." Such is the cycle of life. "We three kings of orient are..."

Every year for so-me ti-me now I've kept my antenna out for the presence of a palpable feeling of joy that arrive with the victory of the light (the Sun) over darkness (the Moon/reflected light) during the three days immediately following the winter solstice. If such is so it's probably too subjective to get a general consensus about. I doubt if it could be quantitatively measured for atta boys.

I still feel a little guilty because I didn't juice the wheatgrass to share the feeling of horticultural success with my partner in this endeavor. What I feel guilty about is that I juiced up a couple of carrots and an apple for sweetness later after the rice settled in. I had already cleaned the juicer before I realized I could have done the wheatgrass instead.

Even now I'm putting it off for some reason. I think it's because I'm playing around with using the carrot pulp from last night as a poultice for where I bit the inside of my upper lip. It's physically intriguing in a way. Sorta like dipping snuff, but without the health problems.

I'm holding a generous pinch of the carrot pulp between my teeth and lips. That pushes the spot where I accidentally bit my lip away from my teeth and prevents their constant rubbing together and further irritating it. The psychological comfort is similar to me to the carrot pulp acting as a cud.

It gives me something to do with my mouth like chewing gum does. Sitting here writing I'm constantly in and out of a state of intense focus. Particularly if I'm editing what I've hurriedly written to capture a drifting thought with words. I really have to initiate volition without thinking about it or the thought drifts out of context with my efforts.

When I drift back to beta consciousness and be-co-me aware of the sensory dimension again, it's humorous to realize I have a cud of carrot pulp in my mouth, and it was there the whole time my attention inhabited another world.

♛