I woke up and actually didn't know what to do with myself. It was early September 2020, the ninth month of the worldwide pandemic. I had cleaned out drawers and closets, cut down the understory around my house, sewn masks, painted a picture, lost four pounds on Noom, and relearned how to make yeast bread. …
Over the past few years, I have received phone calls frommy political party, on 7 or 8 occasions, asking for a donation. Each time I've told the the solicitor that I wouldn't give money unless I could talk to someone about my concerns. On seven or eight occasions, no one ever bothered to call me …
Before the pandemic, unless I was traveling, I would see my grandkids every other week. I would arrive at their house at noon, stay overnight, and then leave around noon the next day. Since the new normal, I have only seen them two times for a total of fewer hours than I could count on …
I haven't written in a while because I couldn't write when I didn't know who I was. How do any of us live when what we thought was normal suddenly disappears, when routine and certainty are gone? How do we understand anything when our reality is so different and our thoughts and feelings have been …
Dear Beth, We have a tradition that started when you moved away. Every spring, I post pictures of the trilliums that bloom in my woods for you. I have the white ones and one very large red that you really like. They appear every year at the far corner of my property by the beaver …
I have felt fractured, broken, the last few days. I was fine getting through almost five weeks of "social distancing". I was doing my part and felt proud of myself. And then things shifted as people without masks nearby were protesting the COVID-19 stay-at-home policy. I felt violated and wondered if all my time alone …
I'm lazy, a blue ribbon procrastinator. I should be writing every day; I have the time. My writing process is strange. I get an idea, I feel its voice inside me, first hesitant and weak. It's like the old-fashioned coffee percolator my mom gave me years ago. It is a treasured object because it reminds …
My epiphany came on a winter day when I was feeling sorry for myself. I call those kinds of days "fat slug days" because during the cold weather, I slowly slither along in my sun-deprived paleness, lugging around extra pounds from eating too much comfort food. On that particular day, I focused on the aging …
"Those who wander are never lost." Our tour bus stopped in the Golan Heights near the Lebanon and Syria borders. I took a picture of the UN jeep and wished I had the opportunity to take pictures of the military equipment being transported along the the highway. I never made it to Jerusalem. I honestly …
An air raid shelter among the sculptures. Copyright 2020 @ The Autonomous Traveler All rights reserved.
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