A month of Sundays

"It feels like a lot of Sundays! And isn't that nice. (sort of) (not really) STILL MUCH TO DO- but yay, alive." ~ Gang Badoy Capati in her FB status

When I got out of bed, I had to declare to my siblings who were still in various states of sleep and semi-wakefulness, "It's Sunday!" I felt that I had to tell them as though the fact had to be declared loudly after our near-languish in this eternity of days that has the stupor of Sundays, that we shouldn't be in a great hurry to waken.

With daylight flooding the room, we had to get up even before eight, stand up, prepare brekkie (tuna salad with bread so it also felt like a Lenten Friday), talk again about the invisible war the world is waging against COVID-19, where to get a piece of palm to commemorate Palm Sunday.

I suggested a banana leaf since we had banana plants a-plenty. The suggestion was laughed off the table. I returned to sipping my Sunquick juice and munching my tuna sandwich and thinking how I'd creatively "waste" my day.

I skipped exercising and headed straight to my "office" space to check on my mail, deluding myself that there were still urgent messages that needed a response from me. But there was nothing but forwarded mail about staying healthy during this period. Nothing that I hadn't read in various permutations in other people's FB status. We're already being told to be wary of such generalized attribution of sources as "According to a Viber source I belong to" or "A doctor I know shared this. Please copy and paste."

Thank goodness for sites like Interlude and ParisReview.Org wherein I could bone up on the lives of my favorite artists like Maria João Pires, the Portuguese pianist and masterful interpreter of Mozart and Schumann, and Vita Sackville West who we shouldn't simply remember for her relationship with Virginia Woolf or the fabulous garden she tended. Sackville West was an author in her own right--by age 18 she had written eight novels and five plays.

But let me not get ahead of her narrative. The site I mentioned can be visited here:
https://www.theparisreview.org/…/the-fabulous-forgotten-li…/

As for Pires, you can follow what I want for my funeral music here: https://www.youtube.com/watch…

And you can sail my mortal remains down Bohol's Loboc River in a barge with palmeras covering my coffin. Photo gives a small glimpse of the river through the interstices of a palm.

Ahh, such Sunday thoughts and dreams when one is not sufficiently caffeinated!