The Apostrophe Blog
I spent most of this day in my green sanctuary. Away from the world. Hiding out. Holing up. By choice. The day after the thirty-four guilty counts convicted as felon you-know-who. I weeded. I watered. I fertilized. I scrubbed more green algae from the dahlia fountain. I recycled. I re-planted. I watched birds—goldfinch, sparrows, the flicker—cheep and bounce and hop. After all that, I read my library book due in two weeks—the one with dozens of folks waiting to read about Reconstruction and the Second Republic—a very good thing!
How does one decide when staying put and simply living in the moment and the ecosystem of a backyard is enough? This week has brought health-crisis and hospitalization news from assorted folks in our family-and-friends orbit. Yet again, reminder of this time of life we are so obviously and perilously in.
I have no answers. I have no wisdom. I am grateful for the serenity of my simple, easy life—for now. My only child turns forty-seven years old in less than two weeks. So there is an acknowledgement of that rattling around in the background as I weed, dig up and move a hosta to a shady spot along the alley fence, pull the latest crop of invasive weeds up and out. Once upon a time I thought I could find an answer to all the questions, determine the question that required an answer via words. I am so beyond over all that now.
Interests: Reading, writing, not arithmetic. The art and craft of poetry. Photography. Vegetable and flower gardening especially heirloom bulbs and dahlias. Movies in real theatres. Theatre on real stages. Art in real galleries. Crossword puzzles and, of course, Wordle. Singer-songwriters like Aimee Mann and Patti Griffin. All kinds of music especially 1930s jazz. Venice, Italy! The Dude abides.
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