not like childbirth

Why do we have slow, dull days, weeks, months even? So we can store and then call forth saved energies for the other weeks. Like this one.

It could be that I'll have trouble posting this -- I came home to no Internet and so far as I can figure out from my landlord (Ed), I'm not likely to have it until someone comes to investigate the problem. My landlord is not sure when that may come to pass. I see myself driving around at midnight looking for a bar with WiFi. Perhaps I'll be posting from such a bar.

When the day began, I'm thinking we have finally switched to the lighter road: one with sparkles and smiles, without the anxiety that had been so evident in the farmhouse this past weekend. It is a cold morning, but hey, we're good with that. The farmhouse has a functioning furnace. It's on.





Still, Ed tells me we lost a good three-fourths of the tomatoes to overnight cold. On the upside? Finally! Diminished pickings! I am no longer beholden to the tomato harvest!

The sun bursts through the morning clouds and I am there to revel in the wonderfulness of the moment. Yes, finally, we're forging ahead!





Ed is terribly weak but he's slowly expanding his eating repertoire beyond Campbells chicken noodle soup. Slowly, but surely. I can see a future for us again. Thoughts of a wedding and funeral have morphed into just wedding. No funeral.

Life is is indeed golden.





Memories of this past weekend are erased. Like childbirth: you forget the pain when you finally get to hold the swaddled newborn kid. Fever? What fever? We are on the upswing!






But not trouble free.


I eat breakfast alone still, though I run up some mango slices to the once-sick-one who is feeling a tad too comfortable to come down.






As the day progresses, I note (from afar -- I'm on campus all day) that Ed is returning to tasks -- at a price. He's like a falcon that soars and then plummets for lack of strength. Up and sown. If you hit him at the right moment (and only then), you'd never remember that he was ill.

Evening. I help paste wedding programs at my daughter's place.


 


At home, supper has to be simple -- more roasted cauliflower, squash too, smothered in tomato sauce with kernels of corn.





Ed has a nibble and that's a good thing.

And now I have Thursday before me, a full and bursting with work Thursday so I have to say, that promise of a sun-streaked gold-paved easy path ahead? Misleading. Indeed, I just saw on my iPhone that we're in for storms any minute. Rains, winds and hail, to be continued, possibly through the wedding day.

Eh, not important. The tide has turned, that's for sure. We're well, surely we are and the future looks fine! And, the Internet just came on!