240709 coming back from far away

 I see that my grandson is looking at making some business cards, on the dining/all-purpose table in the front room, which is where I work, as well, there are small cardboard rectangles in a pile, with markers and pens at the ready. Perhaps that is what I need: a new business card, since I am not fulfilling my function as Mumma Yaga these days. Or I must make more effort to step up my game! (Pretty sure you're not supposed to start a sentence with "or"!) 

This is the longest I have ever left my blog unwritten! April 8th was my last post: three months ago now. I have neglected so much. I did not perform a solstice ritual. When was the last time I did any sort of ritual? It is easy to do them and one is not relying on their significance when all is well. But at a time like this, which by the way seems novel, as if it is my first go-round with burden, perhaps it is the rituals that hold together the pieces. We did not celebrate our anniversary. I decided that I did not want to be the one to plan something this year. I was hoping that K might feel inspired to make a plan. Sigh. 

K has been home for almost six weeks. We are both clinging to the threads of each day, trying to keep our heads above water from waking until bedtime. K is getting better little by little. He can walk around our neighborhood circle now, using his rollater, (walker with wheels, brakes and a seat, in case you don't know them) and we are at the rehab place twice a week for some work. He was so long inactive that the recovery is very slow. It is exponential though: the better he gets the faster he gets better. It is our spirits that have taken a hit, however. It has been almost eleven months now since K first broke his hip. Then it was the femur break, and then it was a surgical "revision" of the femur repair, in February. We are so tired, so disheartened, that we still struggle every day to accomplish the minimum of necessary tasks. I feel a tiny bit better and stronger each day, an amount almost unnoticeable, except that I have had moments and then minutes of feeling unburdened, moments then minutes of enjoyment, energy, ability. I began to believe, only a week or two ago, that I may actually come back from this to feeling whole, purposeful, able and happy. 

We leave for the vineyard in a few days, right after we see the surgeon, who did the revision, for our third follow-up. At the first, he was circumspect and cautious is his assessment, but at the second he was more confident that everything was healing well. K was many weeks at a "reactivation" centre, and then six more weeks at a rehabilitation facility. We are both, I think, happy to be going back to Quebec, but we know it to be so, rather than feel it. K is bit anxious about returning to the "scene of the crime",  which I entirely understand. The house here is small and there are walls and furniture within easy reach so that falling is not much of an issue, but the vineyard is a big open space where there is nothing to stop a fall, and K is still somewhat unsteady, and nervous even with his walker. These months have been difficult for me; I cannot imagine how much more K has suffered, in pain, disabled, frustrated, angry, and broken in spirit. (Just now I realized how unreasonable it was for me to wish he might plan something for our anniversary! Once we are at the vineyard, I will plan a dinner to celebrate our marriage, its survival and ours, through this life challenge. I could even invite Elf and her family, and Rain and her family, to a party such as we have not had since before covid. ((BC, before covid.)) I don't know about the rest of the world, but for us it has been more than four years since we did anything normal like a family gathering or a party.) [Is there a rule about how long a passage in parentheses is allowed to be?] 

I have been depressed. This is obvious. I manage to do the bare minimum required to get through the day. One thing that has kept me from despair has been the natural world, which even in this city is all around us. In fact, being there for K has been my other life-saver. When someone needs you, you find strength for them. Someone else also needs me: Rocky! He is the one who gets me out into nature. We walk over to the hydro field several times a day. If not for him, I might never venture outside except to get in the car for an errand. Before the solstice, I often caught the sunrise, and was treated to its ridiculously beautiful colours. Every day, the clouds, or the cloudless blue of the sky, are a miracle - why so much beauty? It is an extravagance completely unnecessary, a haphazard result of the natural world, and we are given the eyes and the sensibility to appreciate it. Even, it gives us joy! The storms this year have been frequent and dramatic.

We have seen so much rain and I cannot help but feel that the trees and plants, weeds, and flowers, have been exuberant in the extreme: I do not remember seeing such a jungle everywhere as I have seen this spring, in Toronto. The weeds and grasses, the burdock and bushes have gone wild: taller, thicker and richer than usual. The trees seem to have twice the leaves, and have grown tall beyond measure. The spring violets were widespread as never before, as are the clover, vines, and too-tall milkweed. 

   Violets - there are two types in our area: a smaller one that flowers earlier than the larger, but they are otherwise indistinguishable (to the non-botanist, at least!) I rhink I haven't ever seen such a proliferation of them before this. One sometimes sees a white variety of the small one.

The dandelion is under-appreciated. It is beautiful, and if it was sold in nurseries, it would be a favorite for gardens! 

I think these are brittlestems, but they are bluer than the Picture This app shows them. 

I have been delighted with the fauna as well! It is the year of the rabbit - one sees them everywhere, still as a statue, then darting under a hedge. Here are a possum, a skunk, and a coyote! 

Rocky is not much of a hunter! He does not notice the rabbit! Their strategy of staying still works quite well.

The possum is so shy, seldom seen and this is my first ever photo of one! The skunk is, by contrast, so self-confident!

I have often seen coyotes in the field and at the creek. This cheeky one was wandering about in the middle of the morning, his silhouette unmistakable, even at this distance.

I have missed seeing the cooper's hawks on our circle, however. I am worried that they are gone, that though they finished their nest, they did not have a family. I quit smoking recently, so I am not outside so often during the day. I hope that the mating pair are somewhere, still together, and that they will have offspring next year, if indeed they are not here now. The chicks should be fledging now and learning to hunt, but I have not seen a feather of them. 

Thank you for visiting! I have not been a faithful blogger to deserve faithful readers, but I trust that someone will find a touchstone, or an echo of their own adventure, in this post. I have taken much comfort and strength from my friends throughout these trying months. I have often felt unequal to social interaction but pushed through anyway, to find that shared words and a cup of tea have often reaped benefits far outreaching the effort it took to connect. When you are depressed you tend to avoid social contact, because you don't feel like you have anything to offer, nor have you the spoons to make it happen. Yet it is so uplifting. We are social animals, as much as we might sometimes prefer to be hermits.

 Summer is here! Be well!

Mumma Yaga