We got the cat we call our “little one,” CP (for Cutie Pie) when she was smaller than my palm. She was close to feral, frightened of everything. She had been found in an old shed about to be renovated.
Over the weekend, the crabapple tree was in full bloom. And it was covered with bees. Each blossom seemed to be humming. In just a few days, those blossoms are almost gone.
My cousin, who is perfectly likeable in person, is an Internet troll. He isn’t content to express his views on his social-media pages. He goes searching for other people’s pages to try to spark a spirited debate, or to mock, or to just contradict for contradiction’s sake. I just blocked him.
Instead of visualizing bad energies flowing out of me, I imagine inflamed things settling, overfiring hydrants and spigots lowering output back to within desirable levels, red things getting less red, puffy things less puffy, the thresholds of oversensitive alert and warning systems recalibrated.
The first time I went to a therapist’s office, I felt trapped. My partner of the time seemed to have made a specialty of couch talk. I canceled our second appointment because I realized the relationship wasn’t worth the weekly charge … to me.
The immediate effects were not necessarily apparent. After all, some of the largest businesses, like Target, Walmart and local grocery stores, as well as those that are patronized the most often, like corner delis and gas stations, have been open the entire time. Some construction and manufacturing continued as essential work as well, and it’s not exactly a hot market for either.
It’s too soon to know how the pandemic that has particularly ravaged the New York metropolitan area will affect the economic relationship between America’s biggest city and its immediate Upstate neighbors. When things settle down, will there be more home-buying from downstaters seeking refuge?
A large caravan of motorcycles, uniformed officers, US veterans, family members and residents made its way from Tech City in the Town of Ulster down Route 32 to the Ulster County Veterans’ Cemetery in New Paltz in honor of Memorial Day yesterday.
His magic was his voice. And his sense of humor.
Imperfection is cool, but the celebration of imperfection can lead to the misguided pursuit of its earmarks, the codification of imperfection in a set of manners and gestures available only to those who possess the right influences, the right sources of wrong.