I languished on the sofa yesterday with old movies and newer silly ones to keep me mildly entertained. I was nursing a sore throat and a bit of a headache - allergies perhaps? Certainly not covid as I haven’t been anywhere that I could have been infected. I didn’t even get out of my pajamas, but did get it together enough to make an Italian inspired chicken noodle soup with tortellini standing in for the noodles.
This afternoon I was trapped in the bathtub when ‘Joan of Arc’ sung by Jennifer Warnes and written by Leonard Cohen came up on my playlist. What’s the big deal you may ask? Well, there are perhaps 3 songs that always make me cry: ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’, ‘Vincent’, and yes, ‘Joan of Arc’. Many times I’d hear it while I was scrubbing the birdroom floor and my salty tears would mingle with the disinfectant on the floor. It’s a beautiful song with beautiful poetry - I’m not sure if it’s the subject that makes me cry (likely) or the poetry used to describe the story (also possible), or if I’m just a neurotic mess (also possible).
And deep into his fiery heart
he took the dust of Joan of Arc,
and high above all these wedding guests
he hung the ashes of her lovely wedding dress.
~Leonard Cohen
The sun was shining on the coldest day in history today… even tonight the temps are expected to reduce to -6C. That is totally outrageous. There are so few buds on the apple trees that I suspect we won’t have very many apples. THEY say the weather will turn mid week but we shall see…
This is a little Timneh chick that Ruth was hand feeding after she hatched the egg. Oscar and Felix were not the best parents and would kill their chicks as soon as they hatched so we’d pull the eggs so Ruth could do her magic. The chick would have been the size of her baby finger when it first hatched. Ruth was a whizz at raising babies.
Headline tonight: 1,408,155 cases with 83,377 deaths in the US. There are a total of 71,157 (68,848 yesterday) cases of Covid-19 in Canada today, with 5,169 (4,870 yesterday) deaths to date.
“The great pulsation of nature beats too in my breast, and when I carol aloud, I am answered by a thousand-fold echo. I hear a thousand nightingales. Spring hath sent them to awaken Earth from her morning slumber, and Earth trembles with ecstasy, her flowers are hymns, which she sings in inspiration to the sun…”
~Heinrich Heine
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