Week 1568
Decades hence, we will refer to this period as the Season of Lame Weeknotes. Our people will tell tales: ah, we thought all was lost; ah, for so long we heard nothing; ah, it was all work and no stories. Our hearts shrank, our skin grew pale and the birds—the birds didn’t bother with melody anymore. Instead they croaked like frogs, hissed like snakes.
That’s okay: sometimes you have to really invest in one part of your life so all the other parts can, in short order, reap the rewards. Like Shakespeare said: “There is a tide in the affairs of men…”
Someday very soon, the sea will subside and we’ll walk on land again and unfurl the tents and banners and scrolls we rolled up so carefully.
But until then: wow, what a flood.
I appreciate that you are writing the weeknotes even though the scrolls are rolled up; I think that’s a good thing.