I never met a Percy I didn’t like. It isn’t a common name, but I do meet men who answer to it from time to time. My most significant Percy is my Great Uncle, my Grandpa’s brother. I don’t think I ever heard him speak a whole sentence, and yet his presence was strong, and delightful. There was always a twinkle in his eye, as he greeted our visits to his farm, when I was a child. His wife, my Great Aunt Goldie, would always have a freshly baked batch of Chelsea Buns to offer us, when we visited. I have no great insights into the day to day challenges they faced in their lives, but I do know that I was always welcome there, I always felt as if I belonged. I never questioned that feeling of belonging back then, in my Mom’s family, it was like oxygen, it was just there. I didn’t work for it. I didn’t have to manufacture it. It existed naturally from the way people lived. I miss that in this big shiny ugly edifice of a world we live in, or maybe I just miss being a child in a world protected by my Mom.
A quiet day here. Talk continues, communication takes place, no further decisions or action are on the table, tension levels are low. The incredible cold has slunk off outside the windows, and the temperature has risen to -9, it has been snowing off and on since noon.
I slept soundly for six hours again last night, to my great relief, and also managed 25 minutes on the elliptical machine. Meals are regular, no indulgences indulged in, routines are forming, day by day. My crocheting continues to be a source of peace, I do enjoy it, and right now there is a gentleness in the repetitive nature of the stitches.
Date: 6:00 AM EST Sunday 7 January 2018
Pressure: 103.5 kPa
Dew point: -31.5°C
Wind: NNE 5 km/h
Wind Chill: -34
Visibility: 24 km
The temperature will increase by 22C over the course of less than eight hours.
“Holding forgiveness hostage to some act or condition was associated with psychological distress and depression.”
– in a study published by National Institute of Health in 2011