 My yoga teacher told us that some humans have what she calls “carrying arms.” It’s something to do with being double-jointed, or having an inherited, genetic ability to extend your arms in a particular way. I like the idea; “carrying arms” sounds like a metaphor for loving. My carrying arms are back at work today, here in Portland. Due to COVID-19 curtailing, my second week of Fiona time was reduced to about 30 hours. Today we took a stroller walk in the rain and met Tessa and Oscar halfway between her house and Nellie’s. Tessa has put a C-19 hiatus on her in-home piano tunings, and has some free time. Fiona gave Aunt Tessa some smiles. Tessa and I air-hugged, foot touched, laughed. She assured me that her cough was only saliva down the wrong pipe. We are all contagion-paranoid. I would have liked to wrap my daughter into my carrying arms, but that will have to wait. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 204: 158 words, TOTAL = 33,415; 26,585 remaining |
AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is a writer and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband and dogs, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her grown children and their multi-species families. Archives
March 2021
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