Pre-Easter has been a downer. Rob is in back spasms for some reason. He doesn’t feel like doing anything or eating much. I fixed him a grilled cheese sandwich last night and he ate that. I had also made a huge pot of soup, a new recipe with cabbage and tomatoes. He couldn’t eat any. I will end up throwing it out. I had it tonight, so it wasn’t a total waste.

I took a walk and ran into one of my old doctors. Her son has bought a house in the neighborhood and she herself lives just one street over. The sun is bright and I enjoyed our chat.

I had planned to cook some chicken for tomorrow, but now I will wait and see how Rob is feeling. It’s one of those holidays times you just “get through.”

I will probably watch a bit of TV tonight and go to bed at the usual time. Big sigh.

The dishwasher is running and I have washed a load of clothes. That’s about it from Planet No Easter. Once I had a normal life but that was so longer ago I have forgotten what that felt like.

Writing enlivens me. Life is not all beer and skittles. I write for people that know that. I just can’t summon up false enthusiasm for things that do not offer entertainment for me. I write what I know. I write about the panic that Leonard Cohen speaks of. I write about the truth of the moment, which is never what you think it will be. Then I say hallelujah over it.

Love,
Vicki