Evergreen

 Spotted this lovely tree today, while conducting a 'dry run' of a big project I have for the next 15 weeks or so. 

I do enjoy an evergreen.

Through the Pass

Part of the trip between Offspring the Third's school and home involves the Guadalupe Pass. It's a lovely area, and home to Guadalupe Peak. 

Near Guadalupe Peak is the turnoff to Carlsbad Caverns, one of my most favorite places. I wave at it as I drive by. I cannot bring myself to visit it again yet, because Plague. And also, because I associate the Caverns with Cherished Friend -- we went there together many times, both by ourselves and with other members of my family -- and I am not sure what it will be like to visit the Caverns without him. It won't be the same, I know. Will the ghosts of visits past be comforting? Perhaps they will. I won't know until I go.

-----

One of the hardest parts of Pandemic, is not feeling that the situation is safe enough to travel and see Cherished Friend and his Oceanside. I miss walking and talking, sitting in companionable silence, running mundane errands, together. The long solitary drive past the Caverns' road and through Guadalupe Pass reminds me of what is absent. I let the beauty of the scenery wash over me, and try to remain in the moment, rather than allowing my mind to wander backward or forward in time. It is easier that way. 

Someday, I will visit Oceanside, and I will get to see my Friend in person again. And it will be delightful.

Across the Desert

A quick trip to points east to facilitate the very last semester for Offspring the Third. I am excited for him; he has such a bright future ahead. 

He is such a cheerful, helpful soul at home over break -- I have no doubt that he will bring happiness to everyone with whom he works in the future. 

Good luck, lovely young man. 

Microchip

Received an email reminding me to verify and update Tiny Dog's microchip information. 

It pained me a bit to have to "unenroll" her. 

Rest well, Tiny Dog.  

Good girl. 

Live and in Person

 Today's earworm: Love Like Ghosts (Lord Huron). 

I remember going to the Lord Huron concert here -- was it really nearly three years ago!? -- and they started the set with this song. There was the rustling of the crowd, the anticipatory silence, and then:

Yes I know that love is like Ghosts

And the crowd erupted with glee, and the music flowed out over us all. 

It was magnificent. 

I miss live music.

Someday. 

In the meanwhile, turn the music up and close your eyes.

I don't feel it 'til it hurts sometimes 

So go on baby, hurt me tonight. 

All the spirits that I know I saw 

Do you see no ghost in me at all?

Routine

 Herself speaks.

I am trying to get into the swing of things for 2022. Everything is out of sorts; the end-of-2021-exhaustion still lingers. 

Pandemic issues abound: we have one (vaccinated) household member who is on day 8 of recovering from COVID (fortunately the illness didn't seem to be too severe); another household member who was absolutely flattened by a booster shot yesterday; another (vaccinated and boosted) household member who is completely comfortable with the risks associated with dining in restaurants; and... me -- vaccinated, boosted, and not at all comfortable with the attitude of the General Population as I try to go about life outside of my house. Hoi polloi, so unconcerned. I cannot even think about it too much, because my level of impotent rage is SO HIGH. The knowledge that I have so little control over the level of casual exposure I encounter, is defeating.

I am trying to arrange my life as best possible, to be able to do the things I want to do and like to do; to go to work; to play my supportive role in the family. I need to get into a pattern. A routine that is safe, and comforting. A way of tackling each day productively and contentedly. 

I'll get there. It's going to take more Work than I previously realized, though. 

As always: one day at a time. 

The buns stand guard, contemplating Life.

Reprieve

Dodged a bullet - COVID tests remain negative.

It is day 2 of the New Year, and I already feel mentally tired.

Things will get better.