Again I find myself in the solitude of the farm and wondering. I love the light at sunset this time year and in the craziness leading up to the election it seemed especially peaceful to be an observer at this moment. A cow with no worries gently grazing as the last gasp of sunshine fades. The cloudy gray sky hints at the weather change coming, as it will despite the spike in the number of cases, despite our wanting it to be over, despite wanting an effective cure, despite wanting an effective vaccine, despite wanting to be able to hug friends and family again, despite wondering if this trip to the grocery store will prove fatal, despite wondering if conspiracy theories could be true, despite wondering if someone I care about may succumb, despite not being ready for snow and cold, despite trying to figure out where the summer went and why autumn flew by...despite wondering why this year is so not what I expected it to be... and yet, there is a stillness, and a beauty, and a sense of calm, and a feeling of serenity as I lean on the fence and watch the shadows lengthen.
November 4, 2020
My spouse has returned to working on site. His company laid off 300 employees early in the pandemic and hasn't replaced most of them, even though they are now fully open. As a result, my spouse works non-stop. From the moment he wakes, he is on the computer answering emails. Then he works a 10-hour day on site only to come home and get right back to work on his computer until after 1 am. His workplace is taking advantage of his workaholic tendencies, and he is letting them. They don't have room in the budget to hire support for him and, since he gets the job done alone, they don't have the motivation to find room. He's stressed. I'm lonely. We are also dealing with a sick pet who I'm home with 24/7 while my spouse is dealing with his work. So we are both stressed about that, too. Life was simpler when the world was shut down and all we had to do was be together, do puzzles and figure out what to have for dinner.
June 6, 2021