I had a lovely old-woman weekend. I walked with the dogs in the snow; watched Shrek 2 on television, with many out-loud laughs; then As Time Goes By Reunion on PBS — more subtle but just as fun. I never imagined a life in which television would be a welcome diversion.

The Republican congressman who resigned this week after confessing to evading taxes and soliciting and accepting bribes, said he learned in Vietnam that ‘The true measure of a man is how he responds to adversity.’ As I watch developments in Washington, with the CIA leak investigation, the Abramoff probes, Delay and Frist and on and on, I begin to suspect that the true measure of a person is how s/he responds to the acquisition of power.

Yesterday I set my coffee mug down, as I always do, on the table next to me — except that I didn’t. I released it too soon, and down it went on the wood floor. Often this clumsiness early in the day augurs ill, but not this time. The day passed well, and brought a friend with a homemade meal: chicken, salad, pasta, and pumpkin pie!

This morning, real snow, the kind that sticks and hides icy patches. A neighbor has already taken a fall. The dogs happily shovel their noses through it. A friend and her grandson come around the corner, holding hands; she elegant even in this weather, and he with that stiff-legged child-in-winter-clothing waddle. And a many-colored hat with a ball on top.

I dream that I am oddly blind — if light is too intense, or too weak, I cannot see. I am driving, and as I pass through areas of changing light, I no longer see my way. I clench the steering wheel in terror. Then the light settles again, I can see, I am safe. And again. I never have an opportunity to pull off the road. I must continue on, blind or not. Even if I can’t see my way.