Day Seventeen of Lockdown

We cannot get out! There is no test; The women shop

the men talk; the fallen leaves are collected; a stray cat does it’s thing;

I use a pound of cabbage and some carrot to fill the crock; sauerkraut is on its way; at least the bones of several roasted chickens make it to the pot for stock.

We cannot get out — tomorrow is again, uncertain.

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