Meh

'Now, at last I fall before

The Fountain of Lamneth

I thought I would be singing

But I'm tired... out of breath

Many journeys end here

But, the secret's told the same

Life is just a candle and a dream

Must give it flame'

-Neil Peart, The Fountain of Lamneth

It's been nearly two years since the One Big Case came through the door. It was a very difficult body of facts and tougher area of the law, risky but with a big upside if we prevailed. I toiled along through most of 2021 and all of 2022, chipping away at the procedural issues, interviewing witnesses, examining email exchanges and records to stitch together the story of what happened, researching the law, always researching because I don't spend much time in this neighborhood.

And the entire time working without pay, because this was a contingent fee case that only resulted in a fee if we recovered something for the client. "We'll fix that porch/buy that boat/work a little less when ***** settles," became a reprise in our house. Deferred gratification was our mantra.

Then yesterday it ended, the final documents signed and recorded and funds disbursed to us and to the client. Like most cases, this one never went to trial; the two sides developed the facts we needed to evaluate the case, the lawyer on the other side was reasonable and a superb legal mind, and we negotiated literally for several weeks until we reached an outcome that left everyone a little unhappy, which is how cases settle.

Peg's relieved, now with not much financial pressure to go back to work. Making that into a choice instead of a mandate is liberating, I suppose.

But for me? I'm sort of flat this morning, maybe from one too many Red Breast 12s last night. It was Fat Tuesday, after all. And we had cause to celebrate. Now I'm staring down more work than I can say grace over on this Ash Wednesday; have already completed a couple work calls this morning, in fact. The beat goes on. Time to find another goal, I suppose. Or maybe come up with a Lenten resolution to forgo something I enjoy as an act of spiritual discipline, which is sort of an odd musing for one who's been on the outs with the church for so long.

Eighty degrees on the 22nd of February. Maybe it's global warming, but sitting on the fourth floor patio at 407 sipping coffee with the beautiful P sure was nice this morning. Perhaps I'll surprise her and show up for lunch, although the last time I tried that she was out shopping.

And so it goes.