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:
1) When?
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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