Doing Nothing
As the Vancouver rains fall Rosemary and I reluctantly go out and as soon as we can we return to our cozy (after almost four years she is beginning to like our little Kitsilano house) home. It is warm and dry and Niño and Niña are there to greet us. They quickly beckon us upstairs (after we have fed them) and the four us settle down on our comfortable Stickley bed. Time seems to be compressed.
How?
After our 8am breakfast in bed it seems that soon we are watching Rachel Maddow at 6pm and before we know it, after a light supper we are back in bed. The day zooms by and it seems that today is just a few minutes after yesterday. And today, in a flicker, will be tomorrow.
To break this pattern (we are trying hard) we have to find projects. I must vacuum. Rosemary must mop the kitchen floor. We answer the phone calls from our two daughters. We plan trips abroad.
Every once in a while I ask Rosemary, “Is anything happening tomorrow?” Her usual answer is, “No.”
Perhaps this late fall I will re-file my photographic archives. I am undecided if I should get small pen drives and store my Fuji X-E3 photographs in them under themes or names and then file them in my metal drawers as if they were negatives and slides.
But at the end of the day when Niña settles between my legs I feel that doing nothing is about the best thing I can possibly do.
