It is far too easy to identify all the things we are unable to do because of the pandemic. All the things we are limited in doing. All the things that have supposedly been taken away from us. Sadly, this negates all the good things that remain, all the things (though perhaps not as grand) that we ARE able to accomplish. And that alone should give us Hope.
This past week, I have been on vacation, such that it is. While I work from home, the stress of the uncertainty of the future can not be shared with anyone in the organization face to face. Therefore, these few days have been a respite from the possibilities of something dreadful. They have also allowed me time for more creative endeavors which have uplifted my soul.
First, there is the writing. That was a given. I sent the final installment of the Ark City Confidential Chronicles off to my publisher. I am certainly hoping they see their way to printing it as it will make a fine tribute to my wife’s late uncle who inspired it’s creation.
I set about working on the first book of a new series. Again, historical crime fiction, post WWII, involving a slightly more complex private investigator. This one takes place in Wichita. The research, though daunting, has been decidedly easier because I have more local resources.
But, there has also been the baking. So far: two loaves of no-knead peasant bread, 12 whole wheat blueberry and nut muffins, 14 date-nut muffins. There is likely two loaves of beer bread this weekend. And, as usual, an array of interesting dishes for my wife to sample after long days of work for her.
We actually went out on a picnic of sorts at a local park. Not too many people out and about. A pleasant evening. The sun peering through the trees. The fresh air cleansing our lungs.
The way things are now are not what I would prefer. But I have been given the gift of a creative mind. To accomplish anything provides Hope. This will carry me forth into the future.