Sunday

It began in a slow fashion: light garden work -- maybe an hour, not more, and animal feeding of course --  that sort of thing.

And breakfast -- we defrosted the pastries from Chicago and they were delicious and despite the cool morning, we ate outside.

But then the day stopped in mid track. I had a Zoom call with a friend who shared at least part of my childhood history. She had just finished Like a Swallow and she wanted very much to reflect a little on that past. 

It turned into a three, or was it four hour Zoom conversation.

I'd been thinking about this before we began and I knew she held some missing pieces for me -- what happened to X after I left Poland, and what happened to Y... And today I found out and it pushed me into further thought about how incomplete our stories are, and how they always need a prologue and an epilogue. On the other hand, since we do inevitably live our lives with incomplete stories, maybe it doesn't matter? Maybe we're happier not knowing everything? 

In any case, I listened. 

And then I was in a mad rush to get dinner on the table, because, yes, it's Sunday and the young family is here for dinner. 

The usual: Snowdrop tries to lure Ed away from his reading, Sparrow builds, Sandpiper hovers. And then we eat.

A lovely ending to an interesting day -- provocative, full of thoughtful nuance. 

I learned a lot.

With love...