Oof, people. I am still sick. Colds are annoying. I’m not sick enough that I have to take to my bed (and I tested, it’s not COVID), but I’m going to teach from Zoom tomorrow, because I’m still coughing and sneezing and I don’t want to bring that into campus, even masked. Bah, humbug.
But I have finally managed to at least send my students their assignments for the week, so that’s something? Not my ideal teaching week, but I’m doing my best. Sometimes, the body falls down, and you just have to do what you can.
On the plus side, I actually got to putter in a very low-key way in the garden today, clearing away some leaf litter from a hellebore with my fingers, getting those same fingers dirty. I’ll put on garden gloves next time, I promise, but there’s something a little magic, a little sacred, about that first spring moment of digging bare fingers into the dirt.
And if you can’t get into the garden yet, faux hellebores and pussy willows are nicely springy too. Spring is coming, folks. From what I was reading recently (don’t quote me, am not an expert), at 51F, COVID starts dying; it can’t handle the heat. Can’t wait.