Charles Dickens was onto something when he penned the words: It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. That adequately describes what 2020 was like to me. When the isolation first hit back in March, Wayne and I moved from Port Orchard to our home on Hood Canal. It seemed a good place to hunker down for the next two or three weeks. Who would have guessed it would be all these months?

I set up shop, got my home office organized and for the first time in over twenty years wrote from home. And surprise, surprise, I loved it. It was fun spending my days with Wayne, sleeping late several mornings a week. (Prior to COVID-19, I was up before 4 each morning.) The luxury of it has completely spoiled me. I’ve knit, baked, took several on-line courses.

My world of the year for 2020 was endurance. And boy did it deliver.

The worst of times. The best of times. Guess it’s all in how we look at it.