“Ok”, I said to my friend. “I’ll try smoking some of my medicinal pot this afternoon and see if I can boost my creativity. “ After all, it worked for her… but then, I am not her. She is ultra-creative. And has the ability to focus like no one I’ve ever known. I cannot copy those things, but I can try a little smoke to see if it helps. I mean, after all, what harm could it do? None…… Sitting on my deck, using my amethyst pipe, trying to amplify that purple ray……

What’s the purple ray, you ask. Purple is the color of the crown chakra, and the ray is divine, it raises our level of consciousness, and is probably the most healing of the chakras, helping to keep you in balance.

Not meaning to digress. I got my lovely amethyst pipe, and put a couple of chunks of a bud in it, and lit it. And smoked it. That mellow feeling didn’t take long to go to work. I continued to write a story I’m working on for my writer’s group, and then came to a place where I really needed to talk to Dan about it, since it’s a story he told me, a true one. I started to call him but then thought better of it. He might be napping, since he has been sleeping terribly. So I will wait til after dinner to connect with him.

I decided to start this…. And see where it goes. Well, it got to the end of the first paragraph and I decided now was as good a time as any to finish the bottle of wine on my kitchen table. It’s a good wine which I started by myself the other day, then Dan and I each had a glass or maybe more. Then there was one glass left, and I’ve been looking at it for 2 days. Of course, when I went in to get it, I decided I needed a snack. I have some really good cheese, and these little cracker-like discs made entirely of parmesan cheese which have very few calories, and no carbs. So now you see where the medicinal pot got me: eating, drinking and, yes, writing. I’m sitting on my deck, as usual. And here it is, the normal time for rush hour, and there’s barely a car going down the busy street a block away from me. It’s so quiet. I will miss that quiet when we go back to our normal lives, if we go back…but that’s another blog.

I don’t have to cook dinner tonight. I made a pot of Spicy Thai Chicken Soup yesterday and have a lot leftover. On purpose, of course. Its really good, with lots of spices and bok choy, and snow peas, chicken, coconut milk, and chicken broth. It’s not hard to make either. But I digress, again. I’m thinking the medicinal marijuana simply amplifies who I am, which is someone who struggles to focus at times. I’m also glad I don’t have to cook tonight because my grocery order will be delivered between 6 and 8, and I cleaned up all my stuff on the table, and out of the fridge, to make room for new stuff. Not cooking means I won’t have anything to clean up again, before they come.

What else invades my head at the moment? The new flowers on my peace lily. The woodpecker in the distance that I can only hear because there is no traffic. How lovely it is to have friends who chat every day in our group text, just to stay in touch. Some of us have spouses, or significant others. But some are alone, as I am much of the time, and it’s nice to just stay in touch.

We all miss our music venues, because they were all at restaurants, which are now all closed. The guy who runs the open mic I go to is trying to put together something online, that all the musicians can contribute from home, and we can all watch it. Hey, it’s not like in person and there will be no fish sandwiches or conch fritters with this, but it would be entertaining for sure. And help to keep our tribe in touch.

Sooooo, I started this a couple days ago, and today, I had some stuff to add, so I’m finishing it.

So one of my friends and I broke quarantine today. Before you gasp, here’s what I did. I took the chairs and table off of my deck and sprayed them down with bleach, scrubbed them with a brush, and hosed them off. Then I sprayed every doorknob in my house down with the bleach mixture, and the toilet and sink. My friend came over with her own bottle of wine, her own glass, her own snacks, even her own corkscrew. I had a roll of paper towels out there, with a spray bottle of hand sanitizer just in case we touched something. We sat at least 6 feet apart on my deck, on a warm afternoon with a tropical breeze. No hugging, just talking. I read her my new story, she read me hers. But we talked about our kids, our men, how much we didn’t mind the quarantine. About how much money we are saving not going out, and cooking, and the course I took on Thich Nhat Hanh’s teachings. It was really nice. A refreshing break from having the world turned upside down. A pause in the chaos, a return to normalcy for a few hours.

Anyway, I hope everyone is well, staying home (which isn’t that big a deal, considering there’s basically nowhere to go). I have been feeling this pervasive sadness at times when I think about all the people who are being impacted by this. Those are the times when I dig down deep to feel gratitude for whatever I am feeling at the moment. One of Gulfport’s own (because he has a home here), John Prine, has been stricken and is on a ventilator in stable condition. He’s well known, a country artist, has been nominated for about a dozen Grammys and won 2. So say a little prayer for him. His wife had it too, but she has recovered. She made it clear that while he’s stable, that doesn’t mean he’s improving.

Love and light to all. Stay safe, stay well.