silence

What I've learned about myself over the past couple of years is that I need time alone. And not just time in one room while Dan and the kids are in the other, but time when they are all out of the house and I am all by myself. Preferably for hours at a time, multiple days a week.

Needless to say, current circumstances are making this difficult.

Which, whatever, but it's making my writing-brain foggy. I made it out for a walk this morning and had two fabulous ideas for blog posts, neither of which I can even remember now. Or possibly they weren't so fabulous. Or possibly I spent all my creativity today working on our distance-friendly 25th college reunion project: a yearbook. My page of it, anyway. I'd paste it here if I could figure out how. It came out looking...very yearbook-y. Which is to say, awkward, but I think also more or less "me"?

Oh but speaking of awkward-but-more-or-less-me, I don't think I've shared this here...

Here I am, on March 12, standing on the bridge by the train station, "actively waiting" for a less sexist and more transparent Catholic Church. This was an initiative started by a theologian who is a hospital chaplain - she waited on the bridge with this sign and a lantern every Thursday in Advent (brrr), and was going to try to do it again for Lent, only with a rotating cast of people waiting. This spoke to me, somehow, and I volunteered to take half a day. But I was desperately afraid that someone might actually talk to me, so I talked my friend Sonja into standing there with me (her birthday present to me); she took the picture. We went to a restaurant and ate pasta afterwards. And the lockdown was announced the next day, so I haven't seen her or the train station since.