'Alone, alone, all all alone', so says the Ancient Mariner and so says me.  At least for today.  R has gone to Toowoomba to catch up with a friend.  Don't often have a chance to be on my own so am
enjoying the freedom of time squandered just as I please.  I have pleased with a ride, reading (The Good German by Joseph Kanon, a whodunnit set in postwar Berlin), yoga, lunch (leftover vegan caesar salad followed by five! homemade - by moi - almond meal cookies), while listening to the Swoon Countdown of the Top 100 on ABC. 

Coleridge's quotation from the Ancient Mariner.  Am more than a third of the way through memorizing it.  And it's true, the brain is a muscle.  Still difficult to learn each new stanza but not nearly as hard as before.  Every day or so I recite it from the beginning.  Do omit the occasional quatrain or put them in the wrong order but generally not too bad.

Began this as an exercise in memory but it has had unlooked for benefits in that I am daily transported to the horror and beauty of the Ancient Mariner.  Because I have to buckle down and really think about it I am getting much more from the poem than I did from the first casual reading. 

American education, at least the education I had in public schools in Michigan and Florida, is not heavy on the classics.  Remember being envious of a boy in my homeroom class who was taking Latin.  Girls weren't allowed.   Now I very much doubt Latin is taught at all in public.  Am Australian friend of mine  said each semester they studied a different Shakespeare play.  I never studied Shakespeare.  We learned about the man, touched upon some sonnets and moved on.   Never ever cracked a book on Coleridge.  Or Wordsworth or Byron or Shelley or Donne.  Guess it's never too late.

Just danced (because I can) to the Flower Song from Lakme.  It amazes me that we are capable of such beauty, beauty bordering on the divine, at the same time as we seem to prefer and seek out the ugly and profane (and by profane, not being Christian or religious I don't mean it in a religious sense, but as an affront to Life and the Living Force which animates us).  Wonder what the Cults of Hatred would do if they thought about their Breath, and the cessation of such.  Anyway.  Not going to dwell on that here.  Was just nice to let the music fill me with Life and Love and dance like no one was watching.  And no one was, except for Matisse and he didn't care one way or another.

Had two lots of people view the house in less than a week.  First couple totally unsuited.  The less said about them the better.  The second couple, very suitable.  Best of all they are interested.  The usual thing however, their house has to sell before they are in a position to buy ours - somewhat similar to the position we're in! 

Happily however, I've stopped stressing so much about it.  Went through a period (or several periods) of wanting the house to sell too much.  Was even going to write a post about it; is it better to just Let Go knowing all will work out as it should be, or should one utilize quantum mechanics and think (knowing thoughts are things) one's future into being.  A question for another time.