pants-legs of time

Well - we have I have now reached the part of my calendar where the things that were going to happen are. The last two weeks felt like an endless parade of cancellations and postponements and additional cancellations; now we are into the territory of things that would have happened. Like an alternate pants-leg of time. Old me is finishing up the Small Engine Repair class, and getting ready for a printmaking class. Old Alice is in New Zealand, and will be joining her ship tomorrow. I am fine here and now doing my isolation/plague/social distancing thing until I think about it too hard, or look at the calendar and see the things I forgot to delete from it and I get this hideous pang of emotion that trips me up every time. It is a different kind of misery sorrow sadness feeling, and I am working on thinking about it.


I think I need to reread some Pratchett. Jingo leaps to mind. As do most of the rest of the City Watch books. Good reading for troubled times. That should all be capitalized, you know.