What did we talk about Before? When we went about our days too busy or not busy enough carrying burdens big and small with enough leftover to take weight for a time from those whose load was too heavy. What did we talk about Then? Before we became Us and Them. When we listened and
I thought by now life would have resumed much of it’s pre-2020 look and feel. That’s what the provincial “restart plan” told us, anyway. Instead, I feel like I’m in an old movie where the walls are slowly closing in around me. It’s heavy and it’s getting heavier and now we’re heading into the dark months.
We’re taking the pups outside to the ash-covered backyard. Maya and Murphy race past me and, thinking Gerry’s right behind me, I leave the door open. We can’t leave the door open for long or smoke creeps in, so I quickly look behind me and see he’s not there. ”I thought you were right behind
It feels like Friday, but it’s Wednesday (I almost said Tuesday. That’s how out of sync I feel.) I finished reading another good book last night (Cilka’s Journey by Heather Morris) and now I’m on the prowl for my next read.) The more I stay at home, the less desire I have to go out.
I’m joining in with a group of writers for Five Minute Friday where we’re given a prompt (this week it’s POSSIBILE) and write for five minutes about it. We did it. We survived something we never dreamed possible: lived through a year like none other in our lifetime, one fraught with deep potholes and crazy
Man, I am tired. Weary, yes, of the din of news cycles and media of all kinds, but the weary in my mind has morphed into something physical. I wake unrefreshed after a full night’s sleep. My body aches with pain I struggle to identify. It’s there, but where? Everywhere? Nowhere? What kind of pain?
We think about taking the dogs for a walk in the sunshine after lunch but the wind kicks up again. Instead, we leave the pups at home and go for a drive. We stop by the community garden for the first time this year and see nothing reaching through the straw covered area where we
It’s noticeable. Dawn comes earlier and dusk, later. We’re on the other side of the recent cold snap , tiptoeing ever closer to spring. There’s still a ways to go, and spring fever hasn’t kicked in yet, but there’s a sense of coming through that’s undeniable. Meanwhile, we’re still jigsaw-ing and enjoying multiple daily chess
The cold snap eases its grip slightly, begrudgingly, giving in to the inevitability of change. If we hadn’t rocked over our front flower bed last year, I imagine I would have seen the green of brave crocuses by now. They would have been covered by snow, and uncovered again, and I’d marvel at their tenacity
It’s dark when I stand in the kitchen wait for coffee to pour from the Keurig and stretch. My eyes wander and light on a little plaque above the window. God bless our home, it says. God bless our home where we are sequestered safe, so they tell us, from a virus named COVID. God
Toss a polar vortex in the middle of pandemic restrictions and you’ve got a string of pretty slow stay-at-home days. And yet I’m juggling a full-ish plate. The paradox is dizzying. Anyway, it’s time for another edition of Friday’s Fave Five and a look back at the week that was. New art supplies. I’m taking