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Posted on April 13, 2020 2 Comments
Noticing, recording, it’ll wear you down. Today I stopped long enough to dance around the house. Walking is noticing, morning yoga, cooking, the ten thousand things. Dance is when you call the noticer home. Mercy, Mercy Me. Sherry Robbins, April 13, 2020
Posted on April 12, 2020 Leave a Comment
Today is the day, nine years ago, that our friend Cleo was born. Today is the day the Easter Bunny, mixing up his metaphors, delivers eggs. A lucky day, in other words. Today is the day, many years ago, that Tom and I were married. We drove the next day just up the road […]
Posted on April 11, 2020 Leave a Comment
Tom said just now I like being trapped in the here with you. What more can I say about this man? We aren’t really trapped, just waiting for New York to call me back on their new call-you-back solution to a logjam of the unemployed. It’s not a pretty day, gray solemn sky, […]
Posted on April 10, 2020 1 Comment
We had a bit of everything today. Snow this morning, big fat flakes all over the hyacinths and forsythia. And then the sun, opening daffodils, daring us to get outside where wind could knock us sideways. The old joke—if you don’t like the weather in Buffalo, wait a minute— is our religion here. Wait […]
Posted on April 9, 2020 Leave a Comment
Ishmael and I are looking out the window while I dial unemployment all day long. Not a worried cat by nature, he demonstrates a little grace. It’s cloudy, but buds keep greening and the groundhog waddles past the fox’s den, also unworried. That any species lives near us these days is grace. We […]
Posted on April 8, 2020 Leave a Comment
Geese like to make a racket just before they land, as if their giant shadows were not enough to clear the way. They are the loudest creatures out today, honking at we humans, so subdued beneath them. Small knots of family stroll, couples fish, kids on bikes race by while parents work to catch […]
Posted on April 7, 2020 1 Comment
Our backs, Tom’s and mine, went out this week as if we had been mud wrestling. We don’t know why. The chiropractor wears a mask and stands well back when he’s not digging in. Country music, piped in loud, seems to give him strength. I want to write about love and not the […]
Posted on April 6, 2020 2 Comments
There are just enough people at the Falls today, just enough sun to warm the paths. The attraction, of course, is the river, deep and wild and leaping like it did before Columbus. No need to steal its power now that everything is closed. White caps and whirlpools and, god, the speed. We don’t […]
Posted on April 4, 2020 2 Comments
Downloaded a pattern to make masks today, knowing it will end in knots and swear words. I can’t sew. When I was nine I wanted to be Zorro. I had the mask, the hat, the cape, the sword. I made the sign of the Z. Righter of wrongs by night, by day he […]
Posted on April 3, 2020 Leave a Comment
One April in the South I stood by the clay-red river and watched alligators watching me. One April Mr. Diehl gave us poems not in our high school textbooks. Let be be finale of seem one said, and I did. One April in Morocco I lay on the ground under more stars than […]
Sherry Robbins 