OYSTERHOOD is reclusiveness or solitude, or an overwhelming desire to stay at home.
A typical headless-chicken Monday, with the refuse truck arriving only late in the afternoon, full eight hours of intense work, no time for photographs (apart from the two above for IG to remind readers about Dawn’s event in Rheenendal on Thursday), and sore cheeks (once more; sigh). I had to send another rejection letter – never easy – and I have to consider ending a professional relationship with someone who is simply not delivering their share of the work on one of the projects I am partly responsible for (deeply frustrating and disappointing, but even my colossal patience has run out; I do understand how rough it is to do anything creative, or to keep a deadline, right now – I struggle myself like hell – but one needs to communicate the problem to others involved).
Yet, at the end of it all, there was a fire and a few chops and good wine and even better company, although my love was also shaken by his return to work after our Namibian adventure.
No new episode of John Oliver’s show to watch tonight, so I am going to sit in front of the TV for an hour or so and fall into bed, to dream, perchance to sleep (misquote intentional).
Be kind. Wear a mask. Support local.
“Physical distancing remains one of the key strategies to curb this pandemic.”