Journals From Quarantine

The first Sunday letter is different than all of us imagined, but it's a good time.

This was supposed to be the first meal plan of the year, but you’re getting a peek into straight up survival mode. As I’m typing this, it’s Friday. I have a migraine throbbing in my cheekbones. Behind my right eyebrow. My teeth. You know when your head hurts so badly you feel it in your teeth that you’re going to need to lower your goals for work and I’ve finally waved the white flag today. The Lord has been so kind to us in many ways during this very unexpected week in bed and the details haven’t gone unnoticed.

We had a snowstorm coming Thursday and, in this household run by a mother who grew up in Chicago and O father who grew up in Canada and spent the first seven years of their marriage in Virginia blizzards—we’re no stranger to a snowstorm. Dallas, however, remains a forever stranger to it and therefore shuts down in a way that can be debilitating. Instead of just being excited about cold and snow, we have to prepare for roads to be shut down, stores to be closed and power to be out.

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These posts are from this time last year when I had bronchitis. Getting through the Holiday season with an autoimmune disease takes a toll and I always seem to pay for it in January.

On My Body & On My Plate 1.21.24

No. 68: That Used to Hurt

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For this reason, I’d stocked up on groceries early and had easy quick meals on hand which was a blessing because the city did shut down a bit, but mostly because O had simple options to whip up as he held our house together for the whole week. So instead of a meal plan spurring you on, this letter is for every single thing that got me through the plague from recovery and wellness to entertainment and delight.