Days and days

We'd tease the retired folks in our lives because they'd lose track of the days. They'd cross out the days on the calendar much like prisoners counting the days.
You know what, of course - they're right. The perception of days in a week changes dramatically when you step out of the rhythm of work. Today is Thursday. At work, we'd be leaning against Friday. Here and now, the days stretch out like a knotless rope. Sitting on the deck of camp, a strong northwest wind ruffling the pages of the book that I'm rading (This Land is Their Land by Barbara Ehrenreich), it could be any day. Does it need to be a particular day? Dunno. Stay tuned.
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