200906 Little Ears Fragile Days

Sept 6

Indre was stalled on her mosaic. For three or four days she didn't want to work on it. So I said to her, "It seems like you are reluctant to get on with your mosaic. Is there something about it that you don't like ? After a bit of back and forth she said - I paraphrase:  I didn't place the pieces in a pattern like you do - (see below). "But", I said, "the woman who wrote the book that I was inspired by didn't worry about lining pieces up like tiles." Indre replied, "Yes, but you said that wasn't good." 

Snap snap steel trap. Little ears don't miss a thing.

September 6th, covid day 180: this month feels like another universe again. The summer was quiet and subdued in most corners of the city. Did people travel? Many went to their cottages; that would have been nice. It might have felt more normal there, sanitizer and masks set aside for a few days. The nightly barbecues didn't happen. After a few evenings in early summer, the neighbours seemed to lose heart and the usual dinner barbecue smells mostly disappeared. There were one or two parties on the street, but they seemed subdued, almost as if they weren't allowed. Oh, right, they sort of weren't. No parks, no splash pads, or swimming pools, at least for our family. We continued to practice strict safety measures. Then, September the first brought the realization that school was back, but once again, nothing was going to be normal. It was like plunging into an Outer Limits episode once again. The days are clear and fragile, as if breakable. Time to create a ritual or a shrine to peace and breath and trust, a place or a time where each day we can renew our strength, singly or gathered as a family, to create a well of hope and heart. 

I think the Cooper's Hawks have left.

K and I leave for Québec on Tuesday: I feel like a deserter running away. But I will leave that guilt behind, too. This is our pilgrimage to a place of renewal, for our souls and our relationship. 

Keep safe. Thank you for visiting.