Routine

It’s a simple mechanism, the garage door lock. A spring-loaded bolt pushed through a slot in a metal rail—the rail the garage door rolls along as it’s opened or closed. It’s like a deadbolt on the front door. Binary, locked/unlocked, no gray area. A lever releases the lock. The bolt springs back, unlocking the door. … Continue reading Routine

A Bubble

A bubble on my ankle, slightly red, hard to see. Itchy. Soft and squishy. Immediately I think it's probably a tick. Engorged and floppy, ready to be picked. Or a worm, burrowed, safe and warm, or spider eggs buried against the bone. Thursday spent standing in tall grass and weeds, in brush and trees. Just … Continue reading A Bubble

Me Time

A few years ago, I managed an employee. The YWCA where I worked had a complex daily cash reconciliation process and a bazillion weekly bills. Unable to plow through the work on my own, I hired Ken for twenty hours per week. He made the deposits and kept on top of accounts payable. We were … Continue reading Me Time

Hope

When you talk about it, you need to look for hope. This statement has been in my thoughts all day. Anyone who regularly reads this blog already knows what I’m writing about. I’m only thinking about one thing these days: COVID-19. You probably have a good idea who made the statement, as well. Three and … Continue reading Hope

Pandemic

Ten days from now: “What can I get for you?” “Four Coronas with limes. We’re celebrating!” “Oh, what’re you celebrating? “The first human to human transmission of the coronavirus in the United States. We’re celebrating the beginning of the end.” This hasn’t happened. Yet. Probably. Maybe. It will though. Any excuse to party, right? I’m … Continue reading Pandemic

Un-Disabled

Last night I watched Chicago Hope. It’s a medical drama, I think. This episode was about a hospital, and I assume they’re all about a hospital, so let’s go with calling it a medical drama. In this episode René Auberjonois, the actor who starred as Father Mulcahy on the TV show M*A*S*H, played a surgeon … Continue reading Un-Disabled

The Cat

I lie awake, the minutes after turning out my light, brain active, anticipating the drawing shade of sleep. I took Lorazepam, a mild narcotic. It numbs my brain, silences the concerns that shake me awake in the early hours of tomorrow. Sleep feels unlikely. I wait for the medicine to dissolve. I wait for my … Continue reading The Cat