The More Things Change

"The more things change, the more they keep changing."

I admit it: I stole that line from the our Juvenile Court judge, who is my employer, a neighbor (our backyards connect), and a longtime close friend. Because that pretty much sums up life around here.

As I type on this 29th day of March, the wind outside is picking up as our part of Ohio moves from balmy springlike weather (it was 72 yesterday!) to what will be a drop into the 40s and 30s. I believe we are also under a High Winds Advisory from the National Weather Service for good measure.

As I mentioned in my last post, I have been walking daily, taking my camera along, and posting what I photograph on Facebook. Friends both near and far have been watching to see what I come up with each day. chiming in with stories or memories or their own shots. It has been a lot of fun.

I did not walk today, despite the sunshine and warm temperatures earlier.  The unwell feeling from the myeloma has been building over the last several days, so I skipped the walk. Instead, I posted some of the shots I had taken over the last week or so but not used before. I shared my health situation; my status brought a comment from a concerned friend (ranting against the myeloma) that led me and my friend and boon companion Anne, lawyers both of us, to riff on the application of the law of adverse possession as it relates to my myeloma. I don't know if the author of the initial comment appreciated our levity, but Anne and I certainly did. (I also realize that last sentence is probably incomprehensible to anyone who has not sat through first year Property Law.) You know you are in quarantine for a long time when you make law jokes with good friends.

I have been watching friends and family build community through these times. We cannot visit, but we reach out through other ways. At the Facebook site for the Central Ohio Symphony, we are posting a video every day: our musicians, our conductor (a world class trombonist), pieces by some of our composers. (You do not need a Facebook account to reach the Central Ohio Symphony's postings; they are open to the public.) Other friends are also sharing and posting music, visual art, and more. Today I joined the church service at All Saints Episcopal Church in Vancouver, Washington. So what's a Jew like me doing in a place like that, be it the venue (a church) or the distance (2400 miles)? Because the churchman conducting the service, Father Joe, is my child-in-law's father and my grandchildren's grandfather. In short, family. Family that I love and miss. Like so many other places, his church is closed because of COVID-19 and today was the first livestreamed service. Of course I watched it. And afterwards I said the Shehechiyanu, a Hebrew prayer I recite often, giving thanks to the Creator for the fact that I am still alive and sharing the moment. (And while I was watching the service, Warren surprised me with making and bringing me lunch. You bet that prayer of gratitude includes the fact that I have this dear man in my life.)

This post is all over the board, but so is life today. So I'm going to close with the best example of resilience I have seen in a long time. When it was so warm yesterday, I spent over an hour in the morning starting to clean out the vegetable garden, which I had brought down but not cleaned out last fall. Last October or November, I had tossed out a potbound planting of thyme, burnt out from a hot summer and fall. The clump of roots and soil had been in the garden upside down all winter. I turned it over and found new growth on the old thyme. Despite being burnt out, despite being thrown out, despite being left to the winter blasts, the thyme came back. Now that's resilience!

See that little bit of green to the left? That's new thyme! 

And yes, I replanted it, this time in the garden.