Those of you checking in to see how I'm doing health-wise have probably noticed I've been writing about the more mundane issues of daily life lately. I hope you are as relieved as I am. I've thought about folding this blog, or just letting it lie fallow for a while. I don't want it to degenerate into navel-gazing, and I hesitate to fill this space with mad ravings, recipes, running times, dream narratives, teenage-angst stories, weather reports and the like.
That said, I will tell you that Mark's running injury appears to be a minor one (see what I mean), so he'll celebrate his 17th birthday tomorrow running the 1500m, 1000m and possibly a leg of the 4x800m relay. Since the meet is indoors and will be jammed with possibly infected people, I'll have to miss it. Don't cry for me, blogsters. Outdoor track's around the bend and I'll be there.
Does dreaming about cows in your house mean anything?
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1 comment:
Dear Patricia,
Of course you have the prerogative to yank the chord from the blog, but I for one, find it so comforting to read your musings. Who was it (Hardy, perhaps?) that talked about the 'prosaic severities of daily life'. I don't know, sometimes there are miracles in the most commonplace (at the track, or in one's daughter's travels, or matters bovine even).
Best,
Kunal
Wish Happy Birthday to Mark from a complete stranger tomorrow!
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