Busyness

 The pandemic has kept me caught between my two worlds.

 I am back in Vermont where life slowly but surely opening up and allowing for social interaction -- time with family and friends feels so sweet.

On the otherhand, my Florida participation is a poetry group, a writing group, meditation group and Buddhist studies class have all continued. The magic of Zoom made this a possibility. 

In fact the Vermont writing groups are continuing on Zoom. We gave up a rental space when in-person meetings were not an option and the workshops started attracting a country-wide level of participation. That's a lot of motivation to keep up a writing practice. Twice as much motivation when I think about it.

There is a book launch for Cold Lake Anthology this evening at a local coffee shop. One of my poems is published in it and several of us will be reading our work at the event. Although I have participated in public readings a number of times, this will be my first time presenting something that was deemed publishable so I am a little excited.

I have a new computer. I didn't want another Mac but didn't really know what I wanted. Don recommended a Dell -- which was also a favorite of my professional geek BIL who had absolutely no use for Apple products. I have the Dell now. It's been a steep learning curve even though I have had them before and it was what I used when I was working.  I am getting there but it did occupy big chinks of my time for the past week two weeks.

I'm still dealing with the dissolving gas bubble in my left eye but it is clearly dissolving -- just more slowly than I anticipated. My vision is much, much better. Also if I get bored I can sit and watch the bubble bounce around and sometimes it breaks into small bubbles. I am easily amused.

The other thing that has kept me busy is garden maintenance -- AKA weeding. One of my friends has been really suffering with various physical ailments as well as some emotional hardships and has just not been able to keep up care of her house and yard. I know that looking at things that need doing that are not getting done can take a toll so I have been cleaning up her flower beds (which are extensive).

It has always bothered me to see once well maintained houses and yards going downhill. You know that often it is reflective of the failing health of the owners. I feel bad for the people of course, but I also feel sad about the buildings and plants. 

So far I am lucky in that a good soak and a restful night's sleep and I am good to go the next day. However, I did open this poem from The Writer's Almanac in my email today. Have to admit, it gave me pause!

Seventy-Two is Not Thirty-Five
by David Budbill

I spent seven hours yesterday at my daughter's house
helping her expand their garden by at least ten times.
We dug up sod by the shovelful, shook off the dirt as
best we could; sod into the wheelbarrow and off to the
pile at the edge of the yard. Then all that over and over
again. Five hours total work-time, with time out for lunch
and supper. By the time I got home I knew all too well
that seventy-two is not thirty-five; I could barely move.

I got to quit earlier than Nadine. She told me I'd done
enough and that I should go get a beer and lie down on
the chaise lounge and cheer her on, which is what I did.

All this made me remember my father forty years ago
helping me with my garden. My father's dead now, and
has been dead for many years, which is how I'll be one
of these days too. And then Nadine will help her child,
who is not yet here, with her garden. Old Nadine, aching
and sore, will be in my empty shoes, cheering on her own.

So it goes. The wheel turns, generation after generation,
around and around. We ride for a little while, get off and
somebody else gets on. Over and over, again and again.

David Budbill “Seventy-Two Is Not Thirty-Five” from Tumbling toward the End. Copyright © 2017 by David Budbill.