Memories of Covid…
I’m marking time today in a different way. It is a slow slog. Every hour is a new normal after twenty two years of the same halls, the same corners and the same processes.
The Coronavirus has dropped a smart bomb into my solid set of systems, ways of being, places of buying and eating and roads on which I drove. It’s a great reduction and we are in the sauce for now.
Usually my nature, my culture, my surroundings look outward, forward…comfortable in moveable and continual movement. Even in stillness and in quieter days there existed the motion and the push and promise of even more movement.
It’s all sort of dribbling off and grinding down and sideways right now. ‘Maybe there will be an extension, a waiver, a check…remote learning. What are we going to do?’
My neighborhood is very quiet. Very still.
Today it shall be cupboards then, I guess. All my cupboards will be cleaned.
And then, I will look for something else…
690 Saint Paul 