Hymn

I am in desperate need of Peace.

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All is relatively well. Beloved Husband is recovering from COVID just fine; no one else appears to have caught it (knock wood); everything is status quo.  Things could be worse, and I am grateful they are not.

I am Tired, though. And also, am extremely aware that my support structure is... insufficient. Yet the idea of building a more robust support structure is overwhelming. 

I'll figure it out eventually. 

In the meanwhile, I will do the best I can.

And for peace, we shall try Hymn to the Sea", from Titanic. I do not like the movie (for it is much too sad), but the music is lovely and calming, and calls to mind soothing gray skies and gentle waves and solitude. Which would be perfect. 

Just A Drop Of Rain

The rainy season is late this year. We did get a little thunder and a few drops, though. Here is hoping for more. 

Schrodinger's COVID

Herself speaks.

COVID quarantine, day... five? Six? 

Beloved Husband is improving. So far, no one else in the house has any symptoms.  I'll run another over-the-counter test tomorrow and see what it says. 

How many days do I need to let go by, before I am comfortable with the idea that I may have escaped infection? (Assuming, that is, that I don't develop symptoms/test positive.) 

Schrodinger's COVID cat: how long will we be in limbo, neither definitely positive nor definitely negative? 

Sometimes, I think a tiny bit about how it might be better if I just caught the Plague, to get it over with. And then I think about how that is ridiculous, because no one wants to be sick. I don't want to be sick. 

This is all... a bit much.

One day at a time. 

Kitty Cot

One of Offspring the Third's kitties has been keeping me company in my lair of quarantine as I await the inevitable onslaught of COVID. I welcome the germ-free companionship. 

Good kitty.

Dodgeball: Extreme Sports Edition

 Herself speaks.

Beloved Husband tested positive for COVID this morning.

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It's not a surprise, really. He spent the past two weeks traveling, first to a three-and-a-half day conference, then to a three-day business meeting. All by plane, and in areas of this state where attitudes toward protections like mask-wearing are... minimal. It was only a matter of time.

So far, he doesn't feel too terrible. Scratchy throat, mostly. A bit of chills this afternoon. Nothing too bad. He's usually the picture of health, so it should go fine. 

I'm a little concerned the Offspring the Third may catch it, too. He never fares well when he encounters a virus.  Gallopingly ill, every time. He was one of the few children our pediatrician encountered who was sick enough with croup to require hospitalization. Every germ leaves him prone for days, weeks. Let us hope that the vaccine and booster he has gotten will protect him enough. We shall see. 

Now the question becomes: will I get it too?

I have spent the past two and a half years trying REALLY HARD not to catch COVID. Really hard. Like a long, slow, terrible game of COVID dodgeball. We're all tired from playing. 

I knew philosophically that it would only be a matter of time until I encountered it face-to-face. Yet it was almost a matter of pride, to have been lucky enough to avoid The Plague so far.

Pride goes before a fall.

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I'm vaccinated, and boosted. It will probably go fine.

I'm not going to think about what if it doesn't go fine right now. 

Let's focus on mentally willing Beloved Husband to recover quickly, and to protecting Offspring the Third. 

One day at a time. 

Done

 Herself speaks.

It is one of those days, when I feel... Done. 

I think that tomorrow, I will find something enjoyable for myself to do. Something that doesn't involve cleaning, or responsibilities, or anything other than just something frivolous.

Words may be sparse for a bit. But fear not, I never remain silent for long.

I'll post pictures of the frivolous adventure soon. 

Box O'Bun

Cavern

Facebook Flashbacks reminded me today that three years ago, Cherished Friend and I hiked in, and then back out, of the natural entrance of Carlsbad Caverns. It had always been a goal of mine to do so, and we made it come to pass. Very satisfying. 

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The Pandemic stretches on and on, and the number of days (countable in years, now) that Cherished Friend has lived Oceanside grows steadily, too. Without the ability to travel regularly to see him, and constrained by the boundaries of technology (because email, text, and Zoom -- while all extremely useful for keeping in touch across the miles -- lack the feeling of being there), I find myself wondering: am I being a good friend? That small worry is compounded by the realization that, because this year has been especially difficult in many ways, I might be an overwhelming ball of need right now. 

I worry about taking more than I give, about relying too often on him for conversation about serious topics, about taking up too much of his mental space. I don't want that. 

I think about my father, who worries very much about being a burden in his frail state, and I understand: we do not want to weigh down the people we care about. Daddy is not at all a burden. I don't know whether I am, though. 

I hope that eventually, things will get Better, and travel will get easier, and I will be able to spend the kind of casual time I enjoy most -- taking a walk, sitting in the evening dusk -- in Oceanside, with my Cherished Friend. And I will be able to listen to what he has to say in person, and I will be content. 

Someday. 

Equilibrium

 Last night, as I lay awake contemplating so many Things, the books of Irish poet John O'Donohue came to mind: Eternal Echoes: Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong; Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom; and especially, To Bless the Space Between Us. It has been a while since I reached into these books to find words of comfort. It's time. Past due time. 

Today, I look in the book of Blessings. 

For Equilibrium

Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,

May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.

As the wind loves to call things to dance,

May your gravity be lightened by grace.

Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,

May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.

As water takes whatever shape it is in,

So free may you be about who you become.

As silence smiles on the other side of what's said,

May your sense of irony bring perspective.

As time remains free of all that it frames,

May your mind stay clear of all it names.

May your prayers of listening deepen enough

To hear in the depths the laughter of God.

Amen. 

Laundress

EXCUSE ME, MA'AM. 

Teenage Mustache

I love this photo. It is a whole Mood, somehow. 

Oh, Dear

Facebook ads, are you offering me RAT BIRTH CONTROL?! What is THIS!?!?

Visit

 Herself speaks.

Apologies for the paucity of words of late. I've been to visit my parents, and it has taken a bit of time to recover from the journey. 

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Travel in late-Pandemic is Quite A Thing. At this point, about 10% of the population wear a mask in public; it's best to just close one's eyes and not think about contracting The Plague. At least all of the planes were timely, and people mostly behaved themselves. That's something. 

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My parents are fine, all things considered.  Daddy is as brilliant, methodical and contemplative as always, despite being increasingly frail. He's contemplating what to do with all of his memorabilia. We talked about this item and that item; he has earmarked things for me and both of my siblings. I might have been the tiniest bit verklempt, while also fascinated by all of the little pieces of his history.

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It's likely I'll be making the trip more frequently over the next year or so. I need to balance the needs of others, against my own needs, and it is complex and requires more mental energy than I have to spare sometimes. 

One day at a time. 

Airport Moonrise

Geese

Wild Bun

Cousin wild bun!

Flap Your Wings

Flat Bun

The bunnies are not cuddly, but they are adorable, especially when they are relaxed and all flattened ou

t. 

Anticipatory Grief

 Herself speaks. Quite serious today.

The clock winds down: my father's doctors, after careful and measured evaluation of All The Things, have determined that he has approximately 12 to 18 months left. 

He provided the news in an email report, with thorough details about the decision-making tree, praise for his doctors, and commentary about maximizing his quality of life. And being an organized engineer as always, his papers are already in order. We all know how to carry on... afterward. 

 I responded that I fully supported his decisions, and that not to worry, we will look after mom. 

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I am a little bit at a metaphorical loss -- especially, a loss of what to say. What do I tell this man, who has worked tirelessly his entire life to make sure that everyone has what they needs, who has quietly, from behind-the-scenes, taken care of matters, without spotlight or fanfare? Besides: thank you. 

I will be traveling soon to go visit my parents, to make sure they have everything they need, to make sure they are handling things OK. This will be just a little bit harder than previously, because there will always be the nagging thought of, what if this is the last time? 

I am struggling. The last thing I want to do, though, is to have Daddy worry. So I will put on my brave face, and carry on for him. 

Current Mood