There was thunder and lightning in Boston today. In April. In Holy Week. In Passover. In the middle of the afternoon.
A dear friend of mine, when he got bored with a conversation (which often occurred) would change the topic by saying in a very loud voice, "My, my WHAT a lot of weather we're having! Great gobs of it!" I find I'm getting to that point with the topic of the pandemic. It's very far from over, and while different places around the world and around this country are facing their "peaks" at different times, ours is due about a week from Saturday. So not only is it not over, but it hasn't really landed with both feet yet. Still, surely there is something else to discuss.
How shallow of me, I know. I need a break from the stress and the paranoia, however justified they might be. This Saturday will mark one month since I've been in my office. The work hasn't ceased, in fact it's being heaped on and I'm busy all day long. We have enough food in the house to resist the urge to go shopping for at least one more week if not two. Going to the shops just to have something to do is not only irresponsible, it's out and out stupid. There must be a book around to read, or something to write, or a game to play, or a show to watch. I'm not budging for quite a while yet. Even my walks outside have become fewer and further between. It's not that fear keeps me inside. I'm just bored. So let's talk weather.
While the daffodils and forsythia are painting the town yellow out there, the majority of trees haven't begun to put any effort into popping out a leaf. My lilac tree is making a fairly valiant attempt, but the maples and elms and oaks around here are just slackers. And I'm cold. No matter how many sweaters or fleeces I pile on I cannot seem to get warm. And I want a cookie. Or several.
Even Mother Nature can't keep track of the time anymore. What day is it? What month is it? Unless you're getting out into it I suppose it doesn't matter much.
We have two sad folding chairs which we plunk onto the front porch when the weather is warm. I usually read or write and Himself has his laptop open and humming. But we can't even do that yet because it isn't warm enough. Then there's the thunder and lightning and rain, so much rain. But it will get warmer. And we will get out there. You will, too. And after every good storm I expect a rainbow! Peace out.
A dear friend of mine, when he got bored with a conversation (which often occurred) would change the topic by saying in a very loud voice, "My, my WHAT a lot of weather we're having! Great gobs of it!" I find I'm getting to that point with the topic of the pandemic. It's very far from over, and while different places around the world and around this country are facing their "peaks" at different times, ours is due about a week from Saturday. So not only is it not over, but it hasn't really landed with both feet yet. Still, surely there is something else to discuss.
How shallow of me, I know. I need a break from the stress and the paranoia, however justified they might be. This Saturday will mark one month since I've been in my office. The work hasn't ceased, in fact it's being heaped on and I'm busy all day long. We have enough food in the house to resist the urge to go shopping for at least one more week if not two. Going to the shops just to have something to do is not only irresponsible, it's out and out stupid. There must be a book around to read, or something to write, or a game to play, or a show to watch. I'm not budging for quite a while yet. Even my walks outside have become fewer and further between. It's not that fear keeps me inside. I'm just bored. So let's talk weather.
While the daffodils and forsythia are painting the town yellow out there, the majority of trees haven't begun to put any effort into popping out a leaf. My lilac tree is making a fairly valiant attempt, but the maples and elms and oaks around here are just slackers. And I'm cold. No matter how many sweaters or fleeces I pile on I cannot seem to get warm. And I want a cookie. Or several.
Even Mother Nature can't keep track of the time anymore. What day is it? What month is it? Unless you're getting out into it I suppose it doesn't matter much.
We have two sad folding chairs which we plunk onto the front porch when the weather is warm. I usually read or write and Himself has his laptop open and humming. But we can't even do that yet because it isn't warm enough. Then there's the thunder and lightning and rain, so much rain. But it will get warmer. And we will get out there. You will, too. And after every good storm I expect a rainbow! Peace out.
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