Indeed, although I got out for a brief walk Thursday morning and then again Thursday afternoon, gaining enough confidence in my much-reduced strength to try a quick Skytrain jaunt downtown for buttons yesterday, I've spent an entire week -- all but those paltry two-and-a-half hours -- inside.
|Just added my old Mackage leather jacket and an M0851 bag that I thought I'd bring back into rotation....|
This morning, I feel as if I may have turned a corner (I slept 'til 4:30 this morning before the coughing woke me, hurrah!). Pater just raises an eyebrow at that claim, and it's true that you wouldn't detect improvement in my voice, which has moved overnight alarmingly close to laryngitis territory. But I'm hopeful....
I haven't had such a bad cold for years (reason to think this might actually be a 'flu, and not a cold), and it's brought me some sweet memories of my Dad draping a towel over my head as I leaned over a sink or bowl full of just-boiled water fragrant with bronchia-opening Friar's Balsam. . . . Do any of you know this treatment?
Speaking of fragrance (ha! see how I did that segue? Nothing random about that, right?!), I came over a bit emotional when I spotted these blooms on a Viburnum Bodnatense 'Pink Dawn' while out running last week. These were the November-through-March stars of my island garden, which I planned carefully to include numerous winter-flowering fragrant plants. And they're surely still blooming there, but I'm, well, I'm trying to bloom somewhere else. Somewhere I'm planted now. New roots are still forming. . . .
Last bit of random for the day: I've been enjoying sending off cards to a variety of friends in various destinations. I've a huge envelope full of stationery, gathered over years and years of good intentions, and it's fun to sort through, remembering when and where I bought this card or that. I'm hoping to see the envelope's contents shrink through the year, although it's a bit shocking what the price of stamps has got to since I was last a faithful correspondent.
Another big change I've noticed, and the one I wanted to ask you about, is a thought I've glimpsed, even grabbed and questioned for a slippery second. Thought is probably not quite right -- more like an expectation. I have caught in myself an expectation or something like, within a few hours of pushing my stamped envelope through the mail slot in the lobby downstairs. It's an expectation clearly built from years of social media, nurtured by the feedback a photo can garner within fifteen minutes of being posted on Instagram. Some days you readers might take a few hours before you offer me sympathy on my cold or offer me travel advice or share your response to a book or television program, but generally, the loop between my thinking/writing and yours is a short one.
But even as I'm wondering what A. in Toronto is thinking about what I've written her, even as I'm impatient to know if C. in Bordeaux was surprised by my card, that envelope is probably still in a sorting facility somewhere between sender and recipient, perhaps in the belly of a plane somewhere over the prairies. So A. or C. won't know what I've written them until I've begun to forget it. . . .Which might seem to rule against the value of "snail mail," to bring out all the pejoratives held in that sometimes affectionately applied term. . . .
I'm inclined to wonder if the necessary lapse between writing and reading, between missive and response, will show itself to me, over this next year, as a value. Will I begin to allow for the rhythm of a correspondence? (and I must say right now that I'm not at all sure any of the recipients will write back -- indeed, I've tried to indicate pretty clearly that I have no expectation of reciprocity. My immediate intent is simply sending off a material piece of mail. At this stage, content isn't what I'm focused on). Will I, maybe, be more content to sit with my own ideas even after they've been sent off, becoming less dependent on a speedy response to them? When I do get that response, if I do, will I be able to compare it to What I Thought When I Wrote the Letter and What I've Thought about that Since?
Anyway. . . this is all veering much more toward the philosophical than I had any intention of when I began posting, and my stuffed-up head isn't up to much more contemplation. But I'm going to keep you posted (ha! Get it? Accidental pun, but I'll run with it) as my Year (or Month? we'll see) of Correspondence continues. Meanwhile, I'd be interested to hear your thoughts, particularly if you've maintained a letter-writing practice.