Dear Diary,
Week runs into week; Monday to Friday in a dash, and there it goes again...
How many squares with faces have I counted in the numerous Zoom meetings, where I can’t see into people’s eyes or read their body language?
A bike ride along the creek in the sunshine, sometimes the wind, to remind me that I live in a beautiful place that needs to be brought to the attention of many more people.
Dinner at home every night with my family; what a rare treat! I’ve shopped with a plan in mind for every meal in a week; something I haven’t done for years. Slow cooked brisket and self-saucing chocolate pudding have been tried and tested and are back on the menu yet again (dollops of coconut yoghurt complement the pud).
I’m not bored yet, because there are dozens and dozens of books I’ve acquired to read when time permits, but I hadn’t got around to them until now. And my penchant for picking up jigsaw puzzles at op shops – there is a diminishing pile and so far, only two of them have had missing pieces.
I’m loving the weekly collection of green waste, because it has made me prune and weed in a garden that is way too big for busy people to manage, but love and attention is being doled out by the bucket-load in our private green world.
But my recollection of conversations and discussions has become blurred because sitting in the one spot in my living room – too often a slave to the telephone and the computer – gives me no visual differentiation between place and dream, idea and time, connection and person; something I didn’t realise was really important to the ordering of my thoughts.
Week runs into week; Monday to Friday in a dash, and there it goes again...
Sandra Wilson
InkCloud 2.0 