Friday, November 18, 2022

I have friends, I definitely have friends!

Our teenagers are having their first movie night since, probably, the early days of 2020.

So it's only been about three years since they've had friends over to hang out. Three long years. 

I don't know what took us so long to figure something like this out (and I know we're "overreacting" and the pandemic is "over" and blah, blah, blah, but I also know that Omicron took us out in June and we've had a heckuva time keeping healthy since then (we've had about a million little "fevers of unknown origin" since having COVID and I'm fairly sure the explanation for them is COVID, but...whatever), and we'd kind of like to not get sick again because yikes), but/so we're outside partiers now. Whereas before we were...just...hermits. 

Three years is a long time to go without hanging out with friends, so we laid down moolah for a fire pit and a projector and screen, and we taught our kids night games, and then they were ready to invite some friends over for a chilly movie/games night. 

They made s'mores and drank hot chocolate and watched a movie and chatted and then apparently were going to play games (but I'm not actually sure what they're up to at the moment).

And we definitely should have done this ages ago. We're just a little bit...slow...sometimes.

I wrote a poem about getting better after having COVID but didn't share it here (or anywhere). I participated in a writing group over the summer, which was sometimes wonderful and sometimes not (because it's important to find a writing group that "gets" you and your style and this summer group...wasn't it; my writing group the previous semester was, but unfortunately they disbanded). Anyway, when I remember how hot and horrible the Dog Days of summer are, I understand why we didn't have people over earlier (it's hot and humid and we really have to figure something out about the mosquitoes). 

I never thought I would say that cold weather is easier to deal with, but can now understand why people might say that. 

But only because it's not really that cold here.

I would not be saying those words if I lived in Alberta. Trust me. 

Anyway, here's a poem about COVID that probably won't get published anywhere but here (and that's okay):

Dog Days in the Pandemic


After COVID chewed us up,

it opened the door and spat

us onto the pavement,

where we sat, stunned

and sticky in the pushy humid air. 


Fireflies flirt with fireworks and heat lighting

reapplies rouge to the gloaming clouds.


A neighbour produces sparklers.

The kids hold them and run
in the residue of the sun’s 10,000°—
Sirius’ heat nipping at slapping,
shoeless feet. 1000° in their hands keeping them six feet apart.

We'll figure out how to hang out in the summer later, since all we seem to hear from anyone is that it's too hot and too buggy or too dark and too cold to plan outdoor events. For now I will just cross my fingers that this fresh air soirée was well-received by our youthful attendees.

1 comment:

  1. Lemon grass (citronella) somehow keeps mosquitos away. We planted a tuft under each window and near the doors of our house in Mauritius. The second summer seemed better, or maybe we just got used to them.