Plan C Day, Parasol, Treetops, and Circus

 I will always think of March 23 as "Plan C" day.  That was the day in 2020 when Bob's doctor came in to talk with him; at that point it was almost 2 weeks past the date that we should have seen some results from his stem cell transplant.  She said they would give it another week and then do another bone marrow biopsy.  I asked her what the plan was if this transplant had failed.  She kept her face carefully blank and said "We'll see what the biopsy shows."  After she left, I turned to Bob and said "I don't think there's Plan C."  That was the day that we started to accept that he was going to die.

The good thing about this blog is that it's a conversation with myself.  I look back at previous Marches - and, sure enough, I fall apart.  It's just that it's a bit harder this time, being 5 years.  I find myself being stressed (for no reason - my life is fine right now) and reminding myself to breath.  Still having those moments of PTSD - I walked outside and for a moment found myself looking for the little blue heron that lived in a pond outside the ward.  This morning when I signed onto the laptop, I was confused for a moment because it said today was the 23rd - which it couldn't be, because I was pretty sure it was Sunday and the 23rd was Monday.  But that was in 2020.  Just things like that.  I'm slowly grinding to a halt; like previous years, I will give myself two days on the 29th and 30th to just give up.

The best analogy for grief that I have seen so far is that it's like a heavy backpack.  At first it brings you to your knees.  It's not that it gets lighter over time; you just get strong enough to carry it.  But for two days, I let myself put it down, sit beside it, and rest.  

But not yet.  I have to keep going until the 29th.  And I have been.  About a year ago I talked about remaking the padded swing out front.  At the same time I was going to replace the rotted parasol over another lounge.  I finally got around to ordering the fabric and getting that done.  As I was fitting it onto the frame, one of the spokes broke.  I don't feel like dealing with it - so I positioned it to sit on the frame of the lounge.  At some point I'll figure out how to repair it.

Yet another place to settle down with a book, or to take a nap.  Or both.

I had some company on Friday.  Apparently Zeke has been talking up how much he likes my museum (and, as Rob reports to me, he says stuff like "And my Aunt Ann is old but she's really cool.")  He has a best friend, Rylin.  Friday Rylin's mother Leigh brought the two boys over and, of course, we had to do the Tree to Tree ropes course.  There I was, with two boys aged 10 and 11, and Rylin's mother who is about half my age and very athletic.  I impressed myself by being more-or-less able to keep up with the.  I gave them all a behind-the-scenes tour, including hand feeding the beaver, and even more excitingly, hand feeding one of the bears (through the fence in the case of the bear).  I think everyone had a good time.  And, as I told them, it was a treat for me.  I rarely just wander around and look at everything.

Although I was pretty sore yesterday (the day after) I wanted to tackle the front deck to get it power washed and sealed before the summer rains.  This has been on the "things to do" list for almost three weeks.  But we had those two bad storms come through - and then it was Pollen Season, when the air is filled with a fine green dust like smoke and everything gets coated.  I had to wait a couple of weeks for the worst of that to abate.  But come Saturday afternoon I had recovered enough from Friday's exertions to do the power washing.

My plan for today was to paint on the water seal.  But I read the directions on the can - and it said to wait for at least 24 hours after washing a deck to apply it.  I had finished about 6 p.m. the night before - so it's a no-go.  Besides, it says to allow 72 hours for a full cure - and it's forecast to rain tomorrow.

I came in, looked at my list of other chores that need doing (from doing my taxes to making granola to giving RiverSong a bath) and then said screw it, got dressed, and drove into town to the circus.

I love circuses, but this one, the Royal Hanneford, is my favorite.  It's a traditional, old-fashioned family circus - one that's been owned by the same family for 9 generations.  There were performers from the 7th, 8th, and 9th generation there (admittedly, one member of the 9th looked to be between 2 and 3 years old but he was a cute little clown).  There were performing dogs, and a guy juggling while standing on the back of a trotting horse, and motorcycles in a cage, and trapeze artists.  Just simple fun in an overly complicated world.

I keep pressing on.  Hopefully Tuesday I can get the water seal on the deck.  Wednesday and Thursday I work.  Jeff is coming to town this week so I hope to meet up with him.  Thursday night I have the library book club.  

After that, I rest.