She Had to Know I Would Post This, Especially As I Find Serenity with Week III on Mt. Pleasant

Years ago, when my sister had a procedure on the tip of her nose, I sent her a knitted-frog nose-warmer so she didn't have to be shy when going out in public. She wanted to cover up the red blemish.

Fast forward. She sent me a photo wearing the frog yesterday afternoon saying that she is partly ready to fight the virus. I quickly made a mouth mask to match the frog and said, "Here's you go."I've ordered one for you on Amazon.

Cynderballz had to know that she'd make the blog (especially because her hair looks really, really good. It's a great cut for her).

We have to do what we have to do to get through this.

And I'd like to personally ask Maude (that fusion of God and Mother Nature) to please, please, PLEASE lighten up on the pollen. I had another 2 a.m. wake-up call with an absolute pounding headache, difficult breathing, and the sweats. No, it isn't the virus. It's typical sinus crap that happens as the seasons change. This spring has already been brutal. I got through the day, but it was rough. I was delirious behind the computer screen and I'm not sure how much more of this ZOOM life I'll be able to take.

Zoom Epiphany #1: People who were not good communicators or effective organizers during the era of face-to-face meetings sure don't redeem themselves in the era of online communication.

It is hell.

Meanwhile, I took the photo to the right a few days ago, after Edem and I prepped the backyard for new blooms, the garden, and much more outdoor festivity. It is the Serenity Prayer art-piece that Sue sent me for my birthday last year, combined with a new piece given to me by Leo, Bev, and Pam (my 3-letter name friends) during this year's birthday. I put two of the solar lights on either side so that for now, each evening, I can look outside and see the glow of all yet to come. It makes me happy, and the birds are already swimming in the crotch of serenity.

Readers, should know, too, that right now my dog has absolutely terrible gas. It is gagging and I have no idea how I'm still standing to type this. I don't know what she ate, because I'm pretty regular with her routine, but this is absolutely revolting and I'd better get her outside to air her out (Holy God of Gods, how has she created such a toxic smell?).

It's Friday. Normally I'd be anxious for a weekend gathering and space to unwind. Instead, I'm simply trying to stay afloat with all the work, assisting my teachers as they, too, figure this out, and figuring out what might come with this summer's programs.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.