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Shiny!

Today has been epic cleaning. The apartment inspection is tomorrow, and while I have no real reason to think that we would fail it, there is no reason for the apartment to be any less than the tidiest and cleanest we can get it. And in any case, I have the day off, and since the roommate has been burning stuff and writing at the same time (her machine burns, and Alllegra writes) I haven't been particularly in the best position to be doing things like reading e-mail. Therefore, since I'm nervous about apartment inspections, I wound up cleaning.

I'm not entirely sure where I started, but now more stuff is hung up, all my laundry is put away, I have sorted through my sock drawer, the anti-light curtain between my bed and the patio door/window is much more stable and doesn't use my staff, the kitchen cupboards have had random stuff taken out of them, appliances have been put away and found homes for, there is a place for the vacuum cleaner, all the old nasty raisins are thrown out, and a lot of nameless other tidyings. It might not be immediately apparent to the casual glance around, but I can tell it, and that makes me immensely happy. The energy is better.

The energy being better might be due in part to last night. I took a long bath with Nightwings, and this turned into a full-blown ritual of some homegrown flavor. It's worthy of passing note that the ritual robes of the play-faith of my youth have evolved a veil as well as the rest of it. I meditated upon things for the length of one incense stick after the lengthy physical and mental preparation, and felt better for it. I wish the pool weren't so nastily chlorinated, or I'd be spending far more time in there, since evidently full immersion in water is necessary for part of my mind to function properly. The bathtub is nice, but a pool is nicer.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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