now & then.

here we are, diary, in the middle part of the unkindest month. our – not their.

after years of using our devious wiles and prayers and wit to survive the cruel shipwreck, we remember the day the tide found us dreaming: it sucked us out to sea.

now that’s done. we are dead and resurrected a nothingness. and that is good.

…

Beverly and i went shopping: she bought me a kate spade bag for four dollars. a glorious present – it is black and red. pictures soon.

I pointed out a vase with a gold butterfly she bought for shannon, and bought her a little brooch with strawberries and ladybugs, and i bought a pair of gold wings to give her to bring to a. k. – next time they visit.

though we live close, the difficulties of living –   work and illnesses – prevent our meeting. besides, i am weak! and there’s the truth: i have not any friend to minister unto my poor health, and she has many. let them care. let them.

the weather is fine today. i will put on these shoes that aren’t quite right, and take a walk for some small provisions. seltzer and the potato of home state idaho, the russet.

there are lemons here. with addition of pepper and turmeric and parsley and parmesan, I will have dinner.

 

— i did not walk or have dinner. made tea of pomegranate and had some rye toast with arugula and snap peas. . I could feast on that.

remind myself to buy a loaf or two of bread.  i inscribe these remarkable pleasures thru lament!

— that was February.

…………………………………………………………………

L. was fetched from boston by his father after two weeks of the plague life. never mind my shouting, he wouldn’t come home – his quarantine is up now & they are all housed securely there. with cats & music. his final classes are all online, and he will conduct his birthday reception thru his bedroom window, he says. they are making appointments to meet him on the day, and a flat stone has been placed 6 feet from his window. he wants to hand out cake on a pizza spade or an oar.

my mother is in her palatial apartments alone & happy – happier than she could imagine – her grandson confined safely in his childhood room, & i abroad, toiling, & near death – the most happy circumstances she has known, ii expect! and I have housed myself back in the dreadful town, away from any true friend, in the bad town, in one of the staff apartments. I had my choice & chose the choicest, in case it is my final resting place. if I die here in this loathed place, this prison of all my good years – it would be quite fitting, but think how rugged my constitution is, in spite of shock & long illness, how I have survived so much penury & cruelty in this foolish life, I am afraid this invented virus cant end me. oh!

i found a marvelous pair of shoes in my storage that had forgot. i was looking for the fine cream leather sandals with laces, and I spied them, but found a more useful pair of sturdy ballet flats with thick elastic and a very good sole. these are my new walking shoes, my recovery shoes. how long ago was a good walk! ten years back, at least. but the time has come again. has it?? if I can walk again as I did, I like to imagine my face will lose its five year frown. the frown had grooved itself in during the end of those years with the good one, the one man, the frown was his, as I told him. he didn’t finish it: blood problems and heart and other labor are what gave it its sour polish.  oh, i was monstrous, frowning & staring through blank years of nights, all the pain. monstrous heroic and alone. but i rest now. perhaps a little life is next. I don’t need much! Gary posted the most amusing sinead meme on my repellant social media wall, and lisa posted something else hilarious, and that were delights enough for this day. having seen the red red bird on both sides of this house… yes.

the clouds are an immense soft cover tonight. the moon broke out so bright for a moment, a few hours back, when night began. now it is close to morning. i have covid-cleaned for an hour or two, diligent & inspired. lest i die.

dear leonard. bless his sainted heart.