Dream: My mother takes me and my kids to a restaurant. It is quite fancy but there are roaches everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Scuttling on tables and under tables in great herds.
Also, the top of my dress fell off.
Anyway, it was a beautiful day and Lily brought the kids back over to kick bamboo and see their grandfather. It was good to see them again and bamboo was kicked.
And there were bamboo sword fights.
But it was just so damn hard to see them and have to keep distance and when they got ready to leave I started crying and I guess I cried more after they left than I've cried during this whole thing. It's too hard. I'd almost rather not see them. And Maggie can't understand why she can't sit with her Boppy or come into the house. And Gibson doesn't quite get it either.
"How DO you get the coronavirus?" he asked. I know Lily's explained it. I tried to explain it again.
Owen's old enough and he keeps his distance but I want to hug him SO much. All my little rock stars, glory babies, the hearts of my heart.
Mr. Moon's planning a bike ride with Vergil and August and Levon, keeping six feet distance, of course, and he asked me if I wanted to go.
I just can't.
First off, leaving the property except to go on walks makes me anxious.
Secondly, I cry just thinking about it.
Ah well. I guess today is an emotional day.
I did weed the little office yard which left my arms and hands itchy and red, even though I wore gloves. And I'm making a soup that's going to suck. There is nothing in this soup that goes with anything else in this soup. It's can't-let-anything-go-to-waste soup. And I refuse to use anything that I can make a whole other meal out of to try and tie it together.
I have sour cream. We'll just put some of that in it and eat it like it was good. With hot sauce.
Okay. This is nice. But sort of sad.
Mr. Moon opened up a bluebird nesting box to clean it out and in it he found this abandoned hummingbird egg. It's hard to judge scale but trust me when I say that the egg is about the same size as one of my fingernails. Isn't it beautiful?
All of the chickens are fine. Growing, as chickens do. The big guys attack and eat everything I give them, whether it's a few stalks of collards or a spent arugula like teenaged boys going through a Costco-sized box of Hot Pockets. The little ones are still small enough that I only have to give them fresh food and water every other day. And the grown-up ladies gave me an egg apiece today. I do appreciate that.
Mr. Moon spent more hours in the garden today. He is such a perfectionist gardener. Here's what his rows look like.
I've always known that my wandering, slapdash rows have made him a bit crazy but now I realize that they've probably been hurting his very soul. I'm glad for him to take this over. I'll weed for him. It's as if suddenly he's switched from a hunter to a farmer and that's all right with me. Although he'll be hunting again, trust me. As we speak he's off to fish in Lloyd Creek to see if he can catch a bream or two which would be a very nice thing to eat, cleaned and dipped in corn meal and fried. The sweetest, tenderest fish I know.
I guess that in him I have the best of both worlds.
And whatever he brings into the kitchen, I will cook.
Where are your emotions today? Are you obsessively reading and watching news or are you hiding your head in the sand? Are you anxious or worried or scared? Are you grieving something from your life that you can no longer do? What are you doing to replace your usual activities? Are you sleeping more? Sleeping less? Are you focused on the day to come when all of this will be behind us? Can you even imagine that as a possibility? Are you finding things that you realize you've been missing in your life like having time to read or simply sit and think? Does time drag for you or does it speed by in some mysterious way? Are you paying more attention to the smallest things? Are you eating too much or not eating enough? Do you find yourself swinging from emotion to emotion, mood to mood? Are you getting along with your co-isolation humans? Are you reaching out more to others or are you feeling as if you want to shut yourself in your own bubble? Are you feeling guilty that you're not using this time to self-improve? Learn another language, make art, do crafty things, read War and Peace, write the great American novel? Are you feeling as if getting meals together and the laundry done is more than enough to accomplish in one day? Are you throwing your whole self into projects and activity?
I think that however we are handling it, that's the way we need to be.
Here are some of the very last of the pink perfections. For this year, at least.
I send them to you with love.