‘April is the cruelest month’ wrote T.S. Eliot.
Here in the northern prairie, it doesn’t even breed lilacs
yet. This year we’ve had spring-like weather followed by snow. Not unusual for
this location.
However, I have small lettuce in a tub, rising toward a grow
light, and below under another light, several small pots of tomatoes.
I’ve raked away some of the debris from grass out front and
in my back yard, though I don’t have much lawn and plan to remove more sod this
spring.
Covid 19 is still the dark shadow hovering over all of us,
even if some of us have been vaccinated, partially or wholly. This virus keeps
mutating, and we don’t know what’s going to happen next. Older people were most
affected at first, now it’s the younger ones among us.
Those of us who read up on the 1918 pandemic aren’t much
surprised by any of this. History does repeat itself, though now we have
vaccines. The first mention of the 1918
flu occurred in April of that year in a public health report from Kansas. (No one
seems to know for certain where this flu originated, though it spread through
Europe and other places). The first wave was mild and began to die down, but
then a second wave hit as the war ended. Patients often developed pneumonia and
could die within a couple of days. A third wave came in the winter or spring of
1919. Although cases declined that summer, some historians say that a fourth (milder)
wave occurred in the winter of 1920.
I try not to spend too much time agonizing about what may or
may not happen with this pandemic. I have writing to do, reading, walks to
take, movies and shows to stream, water colour and drawing to do, baking. I
live alone and find ways to entertain myself; can connect with family and
friends through various media.
The price of lumber and renovations have gone up; one of the
consequences of the pandemic. However, I managed to find lumber to replace a
fence and found a contractor who has time to undertake the work. Hopefully,
that will get done in early May. I’ve put my bathroom renovations on hold.
Maybe they’ll get done next year.
I’m looking forward to puttering in my garden. There’s
always work to do there, plantings that can be thinned or moved, new
arrangements made.
The fence that doesn’t need replacing this year does need to
be stained again. My garage can certainly do with a coat of paint.
It’s too early to do most of that work, though I can do more
raking to uncover those perennials that are already reaching out of the earth
into the sun. I can dig up the patch of sod that I’m going to remove this year.
Last fall I planted tulip bulbs called Jazzberry Jam. They
are white with red stripes. Fingers crossed that at least some of them will
have survived!
April is a hopeful month.
