The world is filled with so many mysteries. Like what keeps the stars from falling? Or how big is the sky anyway? And, if I count all the leaves on all the trees on earth, will I reach infinity?
Most of these questions are riddles I enjoy contemplating, but there are others less pleasurable. Like the one I asked in my last post: will this (expletive) pandemic ever end? When I wrote that, my daughter who is also my editor, responded, "It will, Mom." And although I appreciate her attempt to reassure me, I think she may have missed the point, which contained two more questions:
2) And, when it does will I, and everyone I love, still be standing?
Even though some of the questions I ask seem to have no answers, I have been busy getting on with my day-to-day life. Doing things like cooking and cleaning seem to have become less mundane than they were before the pandemic began. Doing them consistently, and perhaps a little bit more slowly and deliberately has given them more meaning.
And now that I've gotten all of that off my mind, I wonder what I shall make for dinner tonight. The possibilities are endless.
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