Murmuring voices, filled with anticipation
This quarantine might actually end. Today, the premier and the public health officer both used really encouraging words, invoking a return to the status quo by the end of the summer (only one hundred days more). Although I live far away from the neighbours, I believe I could hear a collective murmuring.
My own family took to the messaging program, immediately. Trying to decide what would be the best moment to come for a beach day. Or week. After the bubble reopens, of course; like, in a hundred days or so. We can all count that high.
I am suspicious of anything that seems so simple. We have a lot of idiots, out and about, just waiting for an excuse to party hardy. The upward tick of bodies vaccinated is a factor on our side, but until I have dose #2, a certificate of authenticity and actual familiar faces in the lane I will remain skeptical.
I started this day too early; coming awake to one of those unfamiliar alarms that are broadcast to our devices by the civil authorities. Seriously, the sound is unfamiliar. I had to get up and find a sign. In this case, we were apt to have frost in our gardens. Our garden isn’t planted, so I should have simply rolled back over and waited for a better reason to get up. But, I’m old, and I’m happy. I was once like you are now… you see, there really is a song for every occasion. I might watch a movie, but that should start now, not later. Snore avoidance.
