PondTaro of Shadow

I'm feeling disappointed now. I had a great if somewhat nostalgic time Zooming with friends from my one-time writers group, the Nameless. After we signed off, I looked at my email. Some time ago, our fearless Music Leader from the instrumental group at our one-time UU church sent out an email saying they were going to do in-person music again. The email went to a bunch of other people as well as me, so I was excited to be included. I thought I had indicated that I would like to come. But in response to my email this week, asking if we should show up at the same time as usual for rehearsal, I got a reply that seemed a bit testy. She said no one but me had responded, and mine was just a "maybe," and that she and the oboist had agreed they would just play duets, etc. Then added somewhat crankily that I could show up if I wanted to. But also informed me that the pianist's livelihood depended on not getting covid, and that he'd been very worried about airborne transmission. So I wrote back saying perhaps on second thought I'd better not come tomorrow. Then she said it was okay if I wanted to, and we'd just have to stay farther from the piano, etc. But I felt I'd better stick with my decision. It just sounds as if tomorrow is not the day. And maybe it will never be that day. She had remarked rather ominously, "It's not like the old days." Yeah, I know . . . nothing is like the old days. I guess I should have known better. Oh well. I had fun playing my old Harry Potter music again this week.

What else did I do today? Mostly cooking. I wanted to put together another care package for Dr. Nurse. I accidentally bought a 15 pound bag of potatoes--I mean, I intended to buy potatoes, but I thought it was only a 10 pound bag. So I had lots of big fat potatoes, and decided to make her a loaded potato kit. I wanted there to be some protein to add, so I cut up chicken breasts in thin little strips and marinated them with olive oil, white wine, and herbs, and then sauteed them and added a little bit of cornstarch to make the juice cling to the meat. I salted it a little this time. The finished food bag held pre-scrubbed baking potatoes; two kinds of mild cheese, shredded; chopped green onions; steamed broccoli and some green beans in case the broccoli was too smelly for her delicate tummy; some of the pulled pork, mostly for Mr. Dr. Nurse, as I imagine it might be too spicy for her; and the chicken. Also a bag of fruit for dessert--apples, pears, clementines, grapes. Something for everyone. I texted her to let her know it was ready. She stopped by after the football game ended to pick it up, and came in to chat for a few minutes.

The Sparrowhawk went to the farmers market while I was cooking, to bring home some apples. He found some Northern Spys for me, so I guess there will be some apple pie pretty soon.

Yes . . . now I'm just disappointed and sad. So many things that will never be the same. I know this, but some part of me always still wants to believe. Frodo says--in the movie version--"I have to believe he can come back." Book-Frodo was wiser than that. But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me. . . .