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sweet peace

Blessings, blessings, gifts, these days. The weather is perfect, 20 degrees with a light wind. My neighbours went away and there was silence here and in the ‘hood, such extraordinary silence for downtown. When it’s quiet and sunny with a breeze, there is nowhere on the planet I’d rather be than in my garden – on my deck in the shade with a glass of rosé and a book or this computer. And thou.

Have been gardening – trying to keep on top of the ferocious growth, not just of the good things, but of weeds and plant-destroying bugs. But the roses, the wisteria, the hydrangea – and this year an explosion of honeysuckle. The bleeding heart, the beans and squash, the lettuce. The only sad story is the … almost completely devoured.

My brain is going. I am forgetting names. It’s scary. People’s names, the names of things. The name of the devoured veg – it came! Swiss chard.

Why is it Swiss? In any case, a bug has destroyed it.

No idea how the days have passed, but they have. Today, errands, going to pick up another library book, FaceTiming with Lynn in France, tonight a big dinner with Monique and Cathy, who is leaving for Newfoundland on Wednesday, to our sorrow. She has brought a bottle of Dom Perignon for tonight’s celebration of how we three supported each other almost daily through this strange time.

Lynn said how much she has enjoyed it, being stuck in Provence with books and the internet, cooking, doing her exercise classes, reading, walking. Now France is opening up, and her daughter Sarah and 3 grandchildren have arrived from Kathmandu because Sarah, a single mother, needs help with the kids. So Lynn’s vacation is over.

Canada is opening up too, though more slowly. Just picking up a library book – the library isn’t open but holds are coming through – you stand in the parking lot while they spray the table, then put your library card on the table and stand way back, then they bring the book in a brown paper bag and spray again. Definitely overkill. But they want people to feel safe.

Time to sit on the deck with my new library book – When Time Stopped – and drink in the peace. Too early still for rosé. Or Dom Perignon. But time – some days, it sure does feel as if time has stopped.

The boys and their friend Amani at the march.

This is the entrance path to the basement suite through my garden. Please pass on the word. Ready for renting! Fully furnished, wonderful location, absolutely fabulous landlady!



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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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