Life In Greencastle

I’ve had it.   The Canadian Geese finally pushed me over the edge.   That was my tipping point.   I was driving back to the church after running a few errands on my lunch hour, and there they were flying through the sky.   Steadily flying south in packs of ten and four and six. They were escaping what was feeling more and more like an existential play.   No Exit .   Waiting for Godot .     That sort of thing.   The sort of tale where you never really emerge.   You.   Just.   Wait. It’s been almost a year now since this whole COVID journey began, which seems both ridiculous and unreal.   There’s no possible way it hasn’t been a full year.   There’s no possible way we haven’t come up on the one-year anniversary of when they shut down the schools and we fumbled our way through our first on-line service.   There’s a word that captures where we are right now.   It’s not a fun word.   It’s a winter word.   It’s a “get you through the month of February” word.   Austerity.   As in the