May walk, to the river, to the meadow, in the morning, before my Ukrainian group. There are maple wings and red maple reflections in the brook, and on the river. I am very quiet but the trees are not because, the birds and song. In the meadow, I pass last year’s milkweed pods, dried and polished as shells on sticks. And I always stop to look and appreciate them. What a surprise––to find the snails inside a pod, a home they have made. Stunning. Home, I find the flowers that have gone beyond freshness that I have set out from their vases onto the granite post. I will carry them to the compost pile. But first, I like to see them go naturally to their end. How wonderful, how moving to be with my Ukrainian group on this, our first anniversary of beginning, one year ago. The terrible fact that the war goes on as well. That there are funerals for young people and bombs and sirens all night long for some. And the work of the therapists who attend goes on. Later, I meet, online, with my dear friend, Maureen Murdock, in Santa Barbara. We have set a time to watch my “jinx and heavenly calling” video together. It’s pure delight to share my project with her, and to receive her words of encouragement across the miles. To know I will see her in person this summer at the IWWG annual conference. I make dinner, and my son joins us, and my daughter and her boyfriend, around the table. After, while we are lingering and chatting, I open my computer desktop to send an e-mail. My son spies my chaotic looking desktop, and they all tease me, in a loving way about what they think of as my mad-cluttered desktop. I know where everything is and how to find it! They make a joke: they will surprise me by cleaning up my desktop for me for mother’s day! We all have a wonderful laugh. (And my desktop is safely password protected, thank goodness!)