I’m sitting in my tiny trailer, looking out at the rain. Of course it is raining, it is Friday. I don’t get this rain on Friday business, it must be something cultural. I am about to make a pot of split pea soup. I then thought about walking across the yard to put some things that I made in the freezer, which is in the studio, where my Grandson is working remotely from his office in DC. I am going to get wet. Dixie will follow me because she loves to go into the studio. So much to smell. She will be wet. Then my unfocused mind swings to my Grandmother who had slave quarters behind her boarding house for Jewish men. The slave quarters were just there when she bought the house. She used it for Passover cooking. I never actually went passed the screen door. I have no idea if she had an ice box in there or not. I wonder if people bringing the Pasadikey( I know, my spelling) food into the main house got wet. Probably .So maybe what goes around comes around. Here I am, maybe 70 years later bringing food from one place to another place, feeding people that I love, getting wet. This is what I think about on a very rainy day in Port Townsend.

I think that winter has hit. I turned on the heat for the first time. It makes a lot of noise,  but it does the job. It is propane run and that reminds me of our cottage. We used propane and the worse thing that could happen would be that the delivery man might not be able to get to your house because of the road. We never actually ran out, but sometimes it was pretty close. Our wall furnace had a heart beat. When it kicked in, it would beat a few minutes and then blow this hot air out. The kids would fight  to sit in front of it on really cold days. Our cottage was year round  insulated but I don’t think the cottage stood a chance on those cold Michigan week ends that we spent there. Our windows would have frost.. on the inside. It made men out of us.

Since the library is closed,except for picking up ordered books, I rely on Goodwill for my books. I picked up a paperback”A Woman’s World”, edited by Marybeth Bond, about life on the road. I don’t know if I will like the book, but it looks intriguing. Inside of the book, I found a hand written note to the previous reader, I am guessing. It said” I think of you as a gutsy real woman ...” That intrigued me even more to give the book a chance. Paraphrasing the introduction, “ each individual has to devise her own adventure.Real travel is not a consumer item,but a private thing..... this book has the potential to help women believe in themselves “. Sounds promising and like it will talk to me . Let you know in a few weeks. If I’m not on the road. Just kidding!

I am always surprised that I actually am very comfortable and peaceful being in this semi quarantined environment.The days go by quickly. I treat myself to Amazon deliveries. So far, I have accumulated a crepe maker,books, bras,batteries for my hearing aids,ink for the printer,flour ,yeast, flannel lined jeans and a puffer jacket,and things too numerous to remember. Amazon loves me. I order my food on line. Safeway loves me. I am spending these last 7 months being loved. One of these days, I will have to come out of my cocoon. My daughter in law wondered why I was uncomfortable ordering in food and here I was getting ready to fly across the country with a plane full of strangers. I don’t know the answer. Maybe because the only way that I can get home is to take this leap and fly whereas, eating food from carry out , is something I don’t need . Whatever way I try to rationalize leaving this cozy environment ,really makes no practical sense. It’s just that I really need to be home , even if I know, I won’t have face to face contact with my friends, even though I will still be living pretty much sheltered, even though a lot of things... my home is calling me.

I just discovered that I have a trigger finger. About two weeks ago, I noticed that when I woke up in the morning,my finger was in that trigger position. I had great fun popping it in and out until my daughter told me that there  were consequences to my doing that. It could freeze in the locked position and that could involve cortisone or even surgery. Not good options. So no more playing with my finger .The cause could have been rock moving, my favorite past time or holding a paint brush to do the flowers. I just tape two fingers together when I go to sleep and forget about them. As long as they don’t get in the way of my eating, I’m OK with this.

Latest comments

29.08 | 13:45

Don't quite know how this got to me but it was on the top line of my computer (not in email) But I really enjoyed it. I truly admire you.

31.07 | 07:02

Leona, do you have a date or a booked flight that you come back ?

20.07 | 13:55

Everything sounds so wonderful Leona. Venice will seem boring . I would want to move to Portownsend where the kids are living. All sounds great . Is there?

19.07 | 12:33

That lavender sounds very nice!