Another Saturday has arrived. How did the week go by so fast? I was inside most of the day doing household chores and laundry. I chatted briefly with the man mowing the lawn next door. I showed him where the tall wild grass is at the property line so that it might grow well this year. The past two years it was mowed down just as it had begun to grow. I hope this year will help squelch the weeds that have encroached without growth of the planted grass. We'll see.
Being alone during lockdown brings some degree of angst. When speaking with a friend, we thought of meeting for a walk, but realized we can't do that right now. So, it will be solitary walks only for the next couple of weeks -- at least. Moving between closing things to opening bit by bit and then closing down bit by bit -- or all at once as was the case here recently -- is very tiring. How long will it take to relearn social skills and small talk conversing after a year of solitary living? After virtual contacts, many of which are larger group where participants are hidden from view, I find that I talk to the air -- an imaginary audience. Learning to look people in the eye again may take some work <smile>. At present, we are hearing of hope for a more engaged summer than last year and certainly a 'new normal' autumn. Hope. A small word. An elusive concept to grab hold of. We again are alone together. I will admit that during such times I envy those who live with someone else. I need to recall the words of a friend who once said that those of us who live alone must take care of each other. Of course, this can go further right now where we care for others in a reciprocal manner. The fear of looking forward -- getting one's hopes up again -- is ever present. Holding onto a thread of hope is difficult, but so very necessary right now.
A friend shared a song on social media recently. The singer-songwriter is from Manitoba. I share the song here -- with permission -- for the lyrics which reflect much of what I've felt during the isolation of this pandemic and that slim sliver of hope for a changed future. Stay safe. Enjoy!
Strange Times -- Christine Paddock
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