From one of my online groups:
“Y’all there are white supremacists armed with bats in Fishtown (part of Philly) threatening and attacking protesters trying to just get home. The cops aren’t stopping them and are in fact letting them just roam around free ARMED even though the city had a 6pm curfew. I have a group of friends running head first into the area to protect people. I’m mad, I’m scared, I’m proud of the friends I call family out there right now. Please keep everyone out there in Fishtown tonight in your thoughts. Philly is a fucking war zone right now.”
I read a quote from Joe Talbot today that recovering from trauma was like gathering nuts for winter. Getting rid of the crap people. Finding and keeping handy your good people.
It being a weekday, I attempted to believe that there was a possibility I could retreat to my former world of order and accomplishment where we were JUST avoiding a plague and still has a possibility of a summer.
I am stupid like that. Still, Béla took a live class in enneagrams (surprise, he’s a “helper”), and he took a photography intensive with OTC. Since we’d fallen into Ovid over the weekend, Claudia started watching Natalie Haynes “Ovid not Covid” series of mini-lectures.
Also, the new D&D book, with a Greco-Roman theme, came out; Tuck’s physical copy is on the way but he got the PDF today and he and Claude are sitting geeking out joyously. Claudia’s friend J. will likely enjoy this preview during the game she runs on Zoom tomorrow; Claude has enjoyed being part of a different game than just our “home” game.
OTC held a scavenger hunt as an evening activity and since both kids were running around carelessly snatching items all over the house, a poorly-placed jar of almond butter fell on my toe, which is now twice the size of my other toes.
We overcame Quarantine Sludge Brain and hung two posters. It felt exciting. I only got a good enough picture of one.