My swamp is my refuge. Peaceful and safe at the moment. We turned off the news and listened to the wildlife; the purple martins are here, the crows are always angry, and strange, but true, there are seagulls enjoying my fresh water retreat. The ducks, turtles, and alligators are busy with their sex life. No further explanations forthcoming.
A refuge is great most of the time, but now we’ve been “encouraged” not to leave because we’re old.
Great! I didn’t want to leave anyway!!
Thankfully, we are still connected to the world through the internet and we’re shopping like crazy people. Although we didn’t have far to go to pass an insanity test. We’ve ordered mouth wash, potting soil, and more spam.
We’re good. Not the kind that appears in your email account. We have plenty of that.
We’ve cancelled everything that might be more people than us, although we will be kind, generous and polite to others with “elbow pumps”, smiles at two meters, and wishes for good health. This is odd. There’s no ending goal to reach for or mark the days on a calendar. And! I miss my family!
On the bright side…I have more time to write. A few days ago I reached a refreshing milestone. I wrote “The End” on my yellow pad and, yes, there was a rough draft of 60,00 words too. Draft #2 is typed into my beloved laptop. My WIP will soon be in a “Hunkered Down Mode” as well. I plan to work on a revision of a previous novel for a few weeks before tackling Draft#3 of ….no title yet. I’m not ready to expose her.
What am I afraid of? A Virus!
Enough!
Eleanor Tatum 
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