My memory used to travel down seasonal paths.
What’s that? What
restaurant? Oh, yeah! When were we last there? I remember it was cold, but no snow. Was it November? I remember wearing the “winter white” coat,
the one with the fabulous collar. And Diana wore flats with no socks? How does she stay warm? Oooh, and do you remember the restaurant on the lake? Peg was there. She wore a one-piece pantsuit she came to
regret around the end of her second drink.
People. I remember
hanging out with people, sometimes in large groups.
We sat next to each other, broadly grinning into each other’s faces. Sometimes we hugged or sang karaoke.
Now? The sun
rises, falls. Little changes but maybe
my shirt. When did I last wear a pair of pants with a zipper? Was it yesterday? Was it last week? Does it matter?
Is there anyone keeping score?
Pearl, to borrow a phrase, has become unstuck in time.
I mean, don’t get me wrong. I hear people. Sometimes I even see people. Almost five months into a work-from-home situation
that I would’ve thought far more pleasurable than it actually is, there are
people on Zoom.
There are people just over that fence. People on TV.
People upstairs.
But are they present?
Nay, my friend. Pearl – who now
refers to herself in the third person, occasionally with what she imagines to
be a 19th century English accent – can go days without a mask-to-mask
conversation. Unless, of course, we’re
talking about the mask I’ve adhered to the wall, the one I call “Wilson”.
Wilson and I are tight.
It’s like he can read my mind.
Perhaps things will be better in the fall. I’ll find that coat, maybe get a mask to
match. Wilson and I will go out, split an
order of fries. Maybe share a straw.
It will be magical.
14 comments:
Hey Pearl! So good to see a post from you popping up (said in a fake British accent). We do what we can to amuse ourselves. Right? It has been so long since I've gone to a proper restaurant or crowded in with a group of humans in any sort of hygiene. We're soldiering on here in Idaho. Warm weather, gardens, and occasionally going shopping but having no clue who we meet there since everyone looks like they are masked up for surgery. Not going camping because the campgrounds are more crowded and crazy than home. Say "HI" to Wilson.
Leenie
Hi, Leenie!
Yes, life has gotten a bit "log cabin" over here. Even in the city, it's the dead of winter, so to speak, and I'm this far from stepping out into the blizzard. ;-)
But we carry on, because that's what we do. Glad to hear you're keeping safe.
Wilson says, "Hi". :-)
Pearl
You nailed it and it’s great to see you posting your blog again!
It is lovely to see a post from you again. I am even (a tiny bit) grateful to the pandemic for bringing you out of hibernation.
Stay safe.
We had lunch out last week, sitting in slightly awkward distancing from the very separate next table. And I had a haircut today, but asked for the lightest trim because I cant quite do without five monthsworth of soft hair round my face yet. Don't let Wilson drift away, whatever you do. He needs you as much as you need him.
I’m pinning so many hopes and dreams on fall- don’t fail us, fall!
And my friend, it was a treat as sweet as my grandma’s chocolate cake to read your writing again.
Shelly, La Tejana
Dear Pearl, Your accuracy in humor and spot-on compassion are exactly what's needed right now. Thank you. Regards also to Wilson --when he gets too talkative I just deflate him and tape over his little air-hole so he can't sit on the bicycle pump. There are many ways to cope. You stay safe and well.
SO VERY HAPPY to see this pop up in my reading list! Hope all is well with you. These are some crazy days, right? This work from home thing actually works for me - so I am dreading the days of having to go back to the standard work week...and wondering if we ever will because this seems endless.
You can't imagine how much your post means to me. I pulled my chin off my chest and yanked on my boot straps when I saw a post from you. I feel exactly the same way. These days are longer than deep December, and I am always on the verge of tears for no particular reason.
My word. This actually happened. Maybe Wilson did it. Today I saw your name in the blog list and thought about you! So great to hear the same good stuff. Wilson has no lips, so it is you.
Pearl, Pearl, so nice to see your name on my posts to read. I am smiling. I need to smile. Covid time is lonely and it is nice to see an old friend in my neighborhood again.
Well, hello there. You do know that you’ve been missed? I’ve thought of you often, and am happy to see your post. My day has officially been brightened!
Cheryl in Colorado
What a pleasant surprise, m'lady! (19th century enough?) I also have a special friend on the mantle. His name is Voit. Good company, but he doesn't say much. 'Tis lovely to see your words upon the page again!
Seems like "normal" things, like being on a bus or going to a restaurant, happened so long ago, doesn't it? Gives me a lot of appreciation for those poor people who have lived through wars and insurrections.
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