While My Wisteria Gently Weeps

I burst into tears this morning at something Mr S read from the morning paper, another spate of nonsense from a president eager to end the quarantine: “If it was up to the doctors they'd shut down the entire world! ...”. Evil doctors leading a plot to take over the world! We could make a movie when all this is over, but I think it’s already been made, and a lot of the good guys die. So the president doesnt want to extend the brief shut down we’ve had, and some poor man poisoned himself by following a strange Trump-approved protocol, and I’d only just come downstairs, the day hasn’t officially begun, so what was there to do but weep. 

Weep and wash your hands again and consider everything you touch, everywhere you step, every supply chain that brought you this coffee, this cracker, this honey. Send your husband off on his walk because right this minute you cannot muster one foot in front of the other. Reach for the newspaper to do a nice distracting puzzle, to find they’ve delivered last Friday’s paper all over again. Saturday the paper wasn’t bagged and by the time I got to it it had been so badly rain soaked that it was impossible to open. On Sunday we didnt get a paper at all. I do some puzzles on line to reassure myself that my mind is still working, and then kick myself for spending so much time on the computer.


Everyone’s to do lists are so long, and they all seem to involve some form of cleaning or organizing or sorting. If we didnt do those things before, how on earth are we going to summon our precious energy to do them now?!  I have terrible bouts of inertia in the face of “all there is to do.” The inertia passes, something eventually catches my attention and off I go.  Take care and be gentle. Cut yourself the same amount of slack you would give to me, a stranger. We are reinventing everything every day, and it’s exhausting. Keep on truckin’ as we used to say...

Trying to separate the real facts from the crazy tapes in my head: we are healthy, we have the opportunity to go outside and get fresh air, we have food and shelter. We are inconvenienced. We are disrupted. We are terrified.We are hopeful.

Day Nine