inklingfair I only have a few minutes to write while the baby is napping. Jing left on Valentine’s Day, without a word of explanation. (“It’s too much. Let me sum up,” as Inigo Montoya would say: Perhaps staying at home, for much too long, far away from her family, without anyone else to talk to, had caught up with her.)
Yesterday was a win, I think. I worked over the phone for most of the day. I did laundry. I vacuumed and swept. I put Daniel down for a nap four times. I cooked hot meals on time, a large batch so I won’t have to cook today. I tidied up the storage room of empty boxes and plastic containers. I spent lull moments rewatching what’s left of Hyori’s Bed and Breakfast, which Netflix has decided to axe starting February 15 (I’ve no idea why I can still watch it now). Josh arrived in time for dinner, and we even got to watch Snowpiercer before we turned in for the night.
In a few minutes, I’ll heat lunch. If Daniel’s still asleep, I’ll water the plants. I wish I could go for a walk. Yesterday I strapped Daniel to Amy’s old stroller so I could push him around while I did chores. But how can I bring him outside? Children still aren’t allowed out in this quarantine.
I wish I lived on Jeju Island. There, I could leave Amy outside romping about with the dogs all day. There, I wouldn’t have minded yesterday’s chores at all; they would have just been little things to do in between slow mornings and lazy sunsets, hitting the surf, sipping hot tea, making spring rolls, walking the dogs, biting into snow-chilled tangerines.
Well, at least I’ve still got Hyori. For now.
