Slowly, Slowly

Things are happening in the "Spring" department.  It was 48 degrees when I opened the front door to nab the newspaper and noticed that the bulbs had gotten the memo.  Of course the temperature's supposed to fall today to an afternoon low/high of 42 and then slide down to 29 overnight.  BUT by Friday it's supposed to be 65 and 67 on Saturday and 70 on Sunday and 71 on Monday (when I'll be back at work) so I guess I can put up with today's falling temps, intermittent rain, and impending blustery wind to get to that warming weekend.  I'll be baking my head in the sunshine to bake away the virus, you'd better betcha.

I think I'm getting better.  I think I am.  I didn't cough myself awake last night, well, just once and I slept better.  I still felt like I was drowning in mucous in the afternoon but didn't take any cold pills or snort any spray before bed and I'm not feeling too bad today.  Yet.  It's puckered up out there and looks like it'll rain any minute so there're weather fronts swooping and sliding and that never makes my head feel good; when I have a cold it's just that much more, um, interesting sinus-wise.

Today I have to cut up strawberries and a pineapple (I'm addicted to fresh fruit), go to the bank, pick up a couple things for Durwood (it's a "bad breathe-y" day he says), and that might be it for today.  Oh, no, I want to find a button for my finished sweater so I'll go to a fabric store.  (I wish I could go to the fabric store that DD works in.  I miss her.  A lot.)  I took Beverly to the little auto mechanic shop next to the dive shop yesterday to have her left taillight fixed, it cost eight bucks.  $8, people, bulb and labor.  I think Jon's my new best friend, plus he's right next door to the dive shop.  Convenient.

April 23--Romare Bearden, The Block.

The block is your world
when you're a kid.
You live there,
play there.
You go to church,
school, market.
You know everyone,
they know you,
some dream of escape
but can't break the bonds
of expectation.
~~~~~

I am sorry that kids today don't grow up in neighborhoods like that, that people are so isolated by their busyness that they've lost the feeling community that felt kind of like a safety net when I was a kid.  Maybe it wasn't like that and I'm mis-remembering.  Old people do that.  I know, I know, I'm not OLD old, but this cold's making me feel ancient, let me wallow a bit.
--Barbara