“I hated that I felt a sinking feeling, when you felt hope. And so I didn’t reply to your email, in a timely fashion. What could I say? We stutter, and stammer, holding back our true calling. And the price we pay, is dear. And setting goals is harder, in the time of CO-v2. We cross, and recross ourselves. Bringing in firewood and making soup - enough for one day? Honestly, without a husband, you can bet things take longer, or have to be re-strategized. That’s why, maybe, I was so surprised to see Herb walk down my driveway, when usually he’s in his truck. I was loading wood into the wheel barrow. I was deeply involved with my coping mechanisms, for staying warm. No one really sees how I manage the nuances of it. But, Herb, as it turns out. just needed a shovel. Something easy like that, passing off a cheap tool to someone in need? I can’t really feel proud about my part in it. Herb was stuck, up on my absentee neighbor’s elevation. God bless him for plowing. He does stuff that no one sees, and just does it. Do you know people like that? I think the world runs off it. That’s why I make huge pots of soup, as if I was readying to feed an army. Sort of, my extended family used to be an army. So why change this habit. Tonight, I’ve got carrots, celery, brussels sprouts, potatoes, garlic and coconut milk bubbling on simmer. The smell fills a whole world with peace and gratitude for having food. I’d invite all kinds of people over. But actually, things are weird. The ones filled with hopium, this way or that, are celebrating or licking wounds, and feeling powerful or disempowered. I didn’t used to make a distinction between anyone, thinking all would come around to common sense, free speech & relative freedom. But, no. It’s a strange, upended crapper. I see the timidity of those who are safe, they only want to stay undisturbed. I see the desperation of those who call foul. Who are tired of being manipulated. As I beat against the ice, clotted cedar trees,, forcing branches pinned senseless to the ground, I’m just one person. Kicking piles of bark to knock off snow, cracking hard wood fragments against 2x4 railings to shed ice, I amass my fuel supply. I breathe, because breathing outdoors still has benefit. I twist and haul things, uncomfortable, to test my body against the stupor of digitized systems. You can’t lay down, my friends. You can’t settle for war criminals, corrupt attorneys general, or lazily avoid history. I know. I understand. I used to do it too. You’ve convinced yourself that the many screwings, obfuscations, & false promises are normal. Now that you’re safe. Now that you can go about your business without too much bother, under a whole new set of rules. Wearing a mask. Hiding your smile. Thinking you are the poison, to someone more precious than you.”
