Good Grief 118

The daily task of occupational therapy.
I got up. It's cold (I dress up for bed).
I light the fire and watch the flames leap to life.
I was curious to note that they dance and flicker without heat to start with, as if they need to get the hang of this heat thing.
Just like me, I thought ... I need to get the hang of this living thing, again.
I sat in front of the fire (the glow on the side of the bowl) separating out the hemp seed from my seed mix (it is too crunchy and so will be the birds share).
Once upon a time I would have been irritated that I had bought a seed selection that had a seed that wasn't complementary to the mix.
Now I just sit and sort them out, there is nothing else that has to be done. This is the moment for sorting seed.
I keep thinking there is something I should be doing.
I think I should ring mum and dad in a momentary forgetting.