Saturday warm-up

Oh there is nothing like a good night's sleep and a day of sunshine to make you almost forget the horrors of this world. Almost, but not quite.

I feed the animals...

Then drive to the bakery for a supply of croissants...

And of course, the news is on. Stories about people who have lost their work. Overnight. With suddenly nothing. No word on unemployment compensation, health insurance. Just a big silence. 

I read later several comments on this. From good employers who had had to fire people in their companies. They wrote how tough it was -- they couldn't sleep for days knowing that they were imposing hardship on families. And there, the termination was warranted. Not random, helter skelter, based not on efficiencies but on someone's idea of a good time. "Let's have some fun!"-- cries the perpetrator (Thursday, Musk). While people suffer.

By the time I sit down to breakfast I'm jolted out of my state of blissful peace. 

Still, I eat breakfast with Ed, and Dance, and those two help me let go a little of the tension. 

 

And the croissant is excellent! It took many, many years before croissants sold in bakeries here could be ranked as superb. And I say this having baked croissants for L'Etoile for several years. (I thought they were just okay.) These days, I have no complaints. The fact is, several of our bakeries make fine croissants. Madison Sourdough just happens to have ones Ed and I regard as top of the line.

 

 

 

Later in the morning, Ed went to give blood again (free t-shirt!) and I did my usual guaranteed relaxation: a rework of a trip. This one isn't until the summer, but it was great fun re-imagining it.  It's as if I already took the one that was on the books, then scrapped, and now I was ready for something new! 

And in the afternoon Ed and I pack our cross country skis into the car and head out to our local park. And it is beautiful. 

The forest is quiet. Not a soul in sight. The wind on the prairie is gusty, but here, in the woods, the trees shelter us. I suppose they've seen it all: people have done some pretty insane, destructive things before. And they will do it again. But the trees will stand tall despite the tumult. In the forest, I can always lose myself in their quiet, their sympathetic nod. Their protective branches.

Home again. I make chicken soup, with egg noodles. Seems a good option for tonight. Now if Ed would only find light fare on the TV, we'd be set! Eh, we're set anyway. We are among the lucky. Unemployed by choice. Old, but content.

with love...