And here we are. Complete with kitten, cats, our flock of parakeets, various eggs including ones Boud blows and decorates each year, not this year though, and porcelain ones and the little cockatiel eggs (from long-departed Emily Hope) in the teacup, the Easter Bunny, and whoever else we could conscript.
We are wearing old dresses. Old. Wearing out, they are. But we aren't complaining. Wouldn't be in the siege spirit. We're just saying it's time for new outfits.
Where were we? Oh, right, happy Easter if you celebrate it, happy new beginnings if you don't, in fact that's a good hope for all of us right now.
Boud thanks us for stepping up, which we did with all the grace we're known for. She suggested that line, but we're not sure about the spirit in which she said it..
Ed. Note:
Speaking of grace, my son was very touched by a message from a friend of mine today, thanking him for faithfully working at the supermarket all through this siege, masked, gloved, worried and still working.
Despite mobs of customers, many not understanding distancing, the ever present concern about infection, colleagues going down with covid-19.
It used to be a peaceful job, suddenly an only modestly paid front-line position. Please thank your grocery workers. We often don't notice them much, and only now realize how vital their work is. Heroes also work to feed us.
It feels feeble to be staying home out of the way, but, for some of us it's the most valuable thing we can do. My little family represents both ends of the spectrum right now.
But this too shall pass. Life isn't interrupted. This is all part of it. Shakuhachi.
