Looking out my backdoor: I have nothing to say

Some weeks are like this. Nothing happens. My mind is either too restless to settle or too restful to notice.

My son Ben and his girlfriend, Kristen, are recovering from the COVID virus. That doesn’t mean I don’t worry. He told me only this much, “We are getting better but have no energy.” I am grateful for all your prayers and best wishes for my kids. Beyond that, I have nothing of importance to impart.

This week nothing more obnoxious than silverfish has invaded the intimate spaces of my wee casita. I can tell no stories of daring-do and danger.

It is autumn, in this, my Mexican home. The Fr...