so a notice comes for a package waiting in the post office.  it is very exciting, especially since the package delivered early this morning was only a special shampoo I ordered a while ago that I no longer need.  THIS package will be worth the trouble of traipsing to the post office (where there is no parking), taking a number, and standing in line – because in all likelihood it will be Heather Ferguson’s necklaces that she sent from Canada so long ago!  Yes, I think, and I’ll wear the necklaces and give one to each of my daughters, and maybe to one or two of my best friends.  Anyway, this dreaming keeps me going for a while.  

Of course the P.O. is crowded and I take the wrong kind of number at first, and when I realize my mistake, take the right kind, and see that I might as well go across the street to the university bookstore and buy a new keyboard before my number is called.   I come back half an hour later and it is almost my turn so I stand in the middle of the room yards away from everyone else.  

Suddenly my number is called, but as I step up to window #4, someone from before returns to the clerk to ask something, and a delivery man drops off a bundle of papers, and a man with a box steps in to complain, and suddenly I hear the number after mine called to a different carroll.   

It is my turn to butt in and complain. Determinedly, I take my place at window #5 and show her my number.  Yes, she says, and adds a few words.  But she is behind her mask and behind a plastic window and there is noise from the crowds behind me and I can’t understand what she’s saying.  It takes me a minute to realize that I have to show her my notice.  “People wait so long, they forget what they came here for,”  she shouts at me,  and goes to the other room to bring the package.  

But it’s only a slim envelope and I walk back a bit crestfallen.  No jewelry for me.  It turns out to be a book of Louise Gluck, “Faithful and Virtuous Night,” and since I was a bit disappointed by other books of hers I was not happy to see it.  But it’s really good.  Really.  I read the first poem in the car as Ezi and I drove to buy a pair of shoes before the shutdown, and it captivated me like no other in recent years.  

We’re going into lockdown anyway on Sunday so the necklaces will wait.  And even if they arrived, my planned visit with Heather and friends on zoom wearing my Jools will have to be cancelled because I’M GETTING A VACCINE ON SUNDAY!!!