{"id":18519,"date":"2020-12-16T08:40:59","date_gmt":"2020-12-16T16:40:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mixhart.ca\/blog\/?p=18519"},"modified":"2020-12-16T10:48:43","modified_gmt":"2020-12-16T18:48:43","slug":"a-rose-garden-chapter-4","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/a-rose-garden-chapter-4\/","title":{"rendered":"A Rose Garden Chapter 4"},"content":{"rendered":"<h2><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\" wp-image-18490 aligncenter\" src=\"http:\/\/mixhart.ca\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"625\" height=\"625\" srcset=\"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl.jpg 889w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-300x300.jpg 300w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-150x150.jpg 150w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-768x768.jpg 768w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-540x540.jpg 540w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-270x270.jpg 270w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-730x730.jpg 730w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-365x365.jpg 365w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-520x520.jpg 520w, https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl-260x260.jpg 260w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 625px) 100vw, 625px\" \/><\/h2>\n<h2 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>A Rose Garden<\/strong><\/h2>\n<h4 style=\"text-align: center;\"><strong>Chapter 4<\/strong><\/h4>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><b>June<\/b><\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat time is supper?\u201d Flora asked. At first glance, Flora looked concerningly sweaty and flushed, but as she walked into the kitchen, Elsa realized that her face was purposely painted pink with a glossy facial mask.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOscar\u2019s making the pizza dough, right after he finishes playing badminton with Wyatt\u2014what happened to the tomato? Did someone eat the tomato? I had it right here, ripening, specifically for tonight\u2019s pizza.\u201d \u00a0Elsa said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWyatt put it on his nachos. Call Dad. Maybe he can pick one up on his way home.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Hugo\u2019s phone went directly to voice mail. \u201cHe\u2019s not answering. I have all that fresh basil to use\u2026I wanted to make a margarita pizza.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019d go down the mountain but the mask,\u201d Flora said, pointing to her face. \u201cWyatt, you can go to the grocery store\u2014right?\u201d Flora shouted from the open kitchen window.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAh\u2026I guess,\u201d Wyatt said, and then smacked a birdie over the net.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Elsa wandered out the balcony to glance at the newly planted rose bush. It already had eight tiny buds forming. Leroy growled. \u201cInside!\u201d Elsa instructed, and then dragged Leroy by the collar through the balcony door into the living room. \u201cDon\u2019t let Leroy out,\u201d Elsa said to Oscar, as he placed a freshly kneaded mound of dough into a greased aluminum bowl. \u201cThere\u2019s a deer in our yard, she looks thin\u2014I don\u2019t want him to frighten her.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Elsa watched the deer from the balcony. It could easily be the same doe that chased her through the forest earlier that spring. Though the fawn would be old enough to be grazing alongside its mom, and there was no fawn. It was a hard life for a fawn on the mountain. The forest was home to a healthy number of coyotes and frequented by too many off-leash dogs, and then there was the road traffic. Elsa was silent as the deer nibbled its way through the yard, systematically eating the tips off of the petunias, and the cosmos in the ceramic pots\u2014flowers Flora had planted and considered her own\u2014and then the lilac branches. Elsa flinched as the deer took interest in the grapevine that crawled along the fence. She let the deer follow the vine, tasting the future grapes, watching, as the doe edged closer and closer towards the rose garden. Elsa slid open the patio door. \u201cQuick, Oscar! Bring me two metal pot lids from the pots and pans cupboard. There\u2019s no way I\u2019m letting her near my rose!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The deer stood at the edge of the bricks. She glanced up at Elsa, who stood poised on the balcony, pot lids dangling like cymbals in an orchestra, waiting to be played. \u201cShu!\u201d Elsa shouted. The deer shook her head\u2014as though irritated by Elsa\u2019s command\u2014and then lifted her front leg over the brick wall, gently placed a hoof in the garden, and swung her head towards the rose bush. Elsa clapped the lids together, a crowning moment in the morning\u2019s drama. The deer\u2019s head shot up and she jumped backward, out of the garden, and then froze. She glared at Elsa, with more of a baffled expression than fear. Elsa clapped the lids together again. Leroy poked his nose through the slightly open patio door and barked sharply. The deer took long, elegant strides towards the fence and jumped into the neighbour\u2019s yard. \u201cI let her eat everything but the roses,\u201d Elsa said to Oscar.<\/p>\n<p>A familiar tune\u2014musical bells chiming in an annoying way, that infringed on the natural mountain sounds, and yet, was also comforting\u2014an unexpected reminder of a lost, more hopeful world.\u00a0 \u201cThe ice cream truck!\u201d Oscar shouted, with the same excitement he\u2019d had as a toddler, when he first discovered the rewards that came with the sound of an ice cream truck, circling the suburban neighbourhood.<\/p>\n<p>Flora ran onto the deck. \u201cIs that the ice cream truck?\u201d she asked guardedly, as though afraid it might not be real. Their youthful earnestness was rare, unwitnessed since the quarantine, and it was immediately contagious. Elsa laughed. It was tradition, she\u2019d always allowed Flora and Oscar one trip to the ice cream truck a year. Though, it had been years since the truck had ventured up the mountain, as high gas prices hadn\u2019t made it worth the trip.<\/p>\n<p>Hugo and Wyatt arrived home in tandem. Wyatt, paused, waiting for the ice cream truck to move from in front of the driveway. A masked-woman, with a sterile-gloved hand, gave Oscar a paper-wrapped ice cream cone. Flora, lingered beside Oscar\u2014her face still frighteningly pink\u2014unwrapping her iced treat. Hugo idled on the hill, behind the SUV, awaiting his turn to pull into the driveway. Elsa pictured a look of intense impatience on his face, but couldn\u2019t see him for the large maple that blocked her view of the street.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Wyatt unpacked the groceries onto the designated counter space, between the two strips of duck-tape. He smiled as he placed each item on the counter, an expression that oozed pride and satisfaction. The tomato wasn\u2019t organic. Nothing Wyatt bought was organic. The family was trained to shop exclusively organic, to avoid glyphosate contamination. It had become almost instinctive. Elsa had completely forgotten to mention it to Wyatt. She\u2019d have Flora subtly mention the organic angle to Wyatt at another time. There was no point in squashing his efforts to help contribute to the family. \u201cThank you for picking up the groceries, Wyatt\u2014were people social distancing?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI guess, there was like no one in there,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat\u2019s good\u2014don\u2019t forget to sanitize your hands,\u201d Elsa said. She filled a bowl with hot water, poured in a little bleach, put on rubber gloves, and then gently wiped down the groceries. She spared the tomatoes and bananas from the bleach-brew; instead, she rinsed them in the sink.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cDid you get my chips?\u201d Flora asked. The violent pink hue was gone and her face was freshly-scrubbed. Wyatt held up a bag of freshly bleached kettle chips. \u201cThose aren\u2019t organic!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIt\u2019s okay, Flora\u2014Oscar, call dad\u2014tell him to wash his hands, it\u2019s time to make the pizzas,\u201d Elsa said, as she disinfected the countertop between the duct tape.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Elsa couldn\u2019t breathe. It was as though her body forgot how to inhale. She willed herself to inhale and then sat upright in bed, gasping for air. The room was dark and smelled of campfire. Elsa crept out of bed and closed the window.<\/p>\n<p>Hugo was gone when she awoke at six\u2014his daily ten kilometer run along the lake. The air in the room was stale. Elsa pulled on a robe\u2014it felt like an unnecessary fabric burden\u2014something she never wore except when Wyatt slept over. She pushed open the sliding door and stepped into a thick grey haze. The smoke was too impenetrable to see the rose garden below. She pulled the balcony door closed behind her. She tapped softly on Flora\u2019s door, and immediately entered, knowing they\u2019d still be sleeping. She leaned over Flora and Wyatt\u2019s bodies and slid Flora\u2019s bedroom window shut. She crept into Oscar\u2019s darkroom, relieved to find his bedroom smelling familiar\u2014a combination of rotting-snacks and dirty clothes\u2014and his window closed. She turned on the air conditioner for the first time that year. She\u2019d had the presence of mind to purchase the highest quality furnace filters. They used the central air more often as an air-filter than an air-cooler. In the fifteen years that they\u2019d lived on the mountain, the summers had grown continually drier; they reluctantly accepted that smoke from a massive firestorm\u2014burning somewhere on the continent\u2014would ruin a significant portion of the summer.<\/p>\n<p>Elsa tip-toed down the stairs and out the front door, tucking her nose under the neck of her undershirt as an impromptu smoke filter. She couldn\u2019t find the rose garden through the opaque air until she reached the bricks. Delicate hoof prints encircled the Abraham Darby. The top of each of its branches was bitten off\u2014all of the buds decapitated, except one.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Hugo walked into the kitchen, smelling of campfire and sweat. \u201cMorning,\u201d he said as he strode past, hoping to get into the shower before being asked to start any morning chores.<\/p>\n<p>Elsa sat on a stool at the kitchen island, her robe hung open to reveal the boxers and undershirt that she\u2019d slept in. \u201cShe came back.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThat deer from yesterday\u2014the one I scared out of the garden by banging pot lids\u2014the little bitch came back in the night and finished off my roses.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOh\u2014that\u2019s not good.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo it\u2019s not. I was so generous, I let her eat almost everything!\u201d Hugo\u2019s face was excessively pink, as though he\u2019d put on one of Flora\u2019s facial masks. \u201cWhy did you go running? You know running in smoke is extremely hard on the heart and lungs.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was fine.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOnly an idiot would hurt their body like that.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThanks,\u201d Hugo said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019re not welcome. Seriously, you have to set an example for the children. You can\u2019t go out running in this fucking smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat am I supposed to do? I can\u2019t run on a treadmill\u2014the gyms are closed because of COVID. I can\u2019t sit around and do nothing.\u201d Elsa was silent. She had no idea how she was going to survive the smoke either. Outside was all they had\u2014COVID had robbed them of any and all safe indoor spaces except the house. \u201cIt will blow through soon. There are no local fires,\u201d Hugo added.<\/p>\n<p>Elsa scanned the internet news. Hugo was right, the smoke had blown in\u2014California and Oregon were on fire.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The smoke didn\u2019t blow through. It hung on, like a blanket of doom. There was no mountain, there was no lake, there was only an ocean of grey, beaches of ash. It didn\u2019t matter if Elsa left the blinds open at night, even the street light was dulled by the smoke.<\/p>\n<p>Elsa drove with Hugo to the university and ran up and down the cement staircase in the building of Hugo\u2019s office until her lungs burned and she tasted blood. The smoke ignited her exercise-induced asthma. It had been dormant for so long\u2014probably since the last fire season\u2014that she\u2019d forgotten to bring her inhaler.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>The country was beginning to re-open. The toy store offered Wyatt two days a week with the intent to ease into full-time, as long as COVID numbers didn\u2019t skyrocket and shut the country down again. Flora\u2019s job at the University, as coordinator of the hands-on summer Engineering camp for kids, was canceled. It was a blow for Flora. She was counting on the income to supplement her next year at university. Though Flora\u2019s financial woes were secondary, it was the toy store that posed the greatest immediate threat to the family.<\/p>\n<p>Elsa knocked on Flora\u2019s door. Wyatt and Flora were on her bed, watching a video on a laptop together. \u201cI need to talk to you two.\u201d She sat on Flora\u2019s wicker vanity stool. \u201cWhen and if Wyatt returns to work at the mall, we have to be prepared. We can\u2019t take the risk of Wyatt bringing home the virus to Dad. You both might want to consider moving into Wyatt\u2019s house until COVID blows through.\u201d Wyatt laughed, as though it was some preposterous joke. Flora was silent. \u201cYou\u2019ll have to decide soon,\u201d Elsa said and left the room.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">&#x1f339;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Hugo carried his spaghetti supper down the hall towards the master bedroom. \u201cDon\u2019t eat garlic toast in the bed,\u201d Elsa said from her seat at the dining room table. Hugo glanced her way but said nothing. He had a wide-eyed, eager, yet distracted, expression on his face. \u201cIf I find crumbs in the sheets tonight, I\u2019ll know it was you!\u201d The bedroom door closed. Elsa rolled her eyes\u2014no doubt he was rushing to bed to watch some asinine comedy on his laptop. Elsa stirred the spaghetti around her fork. She\u2019d added too much meat at Hugo\u2019s suggestion. She put down the fork and then ripped apart a slice of garlic toast and tossed half of it to Leroy. Flora rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the car keys from the window sill. \u201cWhere are you going?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m getting a treat,\u201d Flora said, avoiding eye contact with Elsa. She trotted down the stairs in a nervous rush, as though she was late for a job interview.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou never even tried supper!\u201d Elsa shouted.<\/p>\n<p>The garage door banged shut. Elsa pushed her chair from the table and wandered down the hall and into Flora\u2019s bedroom. The room was tidy and serene. The early evening sun had turned the walls a warm apricot hue. Leroy sorted through Flora\u2019s wastebasket. \u201cDrop it!\u201d Elsa said as she pried a French fry container from Leroy\u2019s mouth. The basket was overflowing with various fast food bags. Elsa had not yet broached the matter with Flora. Flora had a history of not eating when under stress\u2014junk food was better than no food. Though, Elsa could not watch idly as her daughter poisoned herself. She would try to subtly reinforce the \u201corganic treats only\u201d rule.<\/p>\n<p>Elsa knocked on Oscar\u2019s door and when he did not reply, she opened it. He sat on his unmade bed, reading. Garlic toast crusts were piled on a dinner plate beside him. He glanced up at Elsa and then returned his gaze to the book. \u201cI feel bad, that the only fun I have isn\u2019t real,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n<p>Elsa took a slow breath in and exhaled silently. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Tears formed in Oscar\u2019s eyes. \u201cAll I think about now is wishing I could go to Hogwarts and live the adventures they have\u2026instead of living real adventures.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Elsa glanced out his bedroom window, into the backyard. Three badminton rackets lay in the grass\u2014untouched since Wyatt left.\u00a0 \u201cThe smoke level is only moderate this evening. Why don\u2019t you call your friends and see if they want to meet you at the beach tonight\u2014you could take the volleyball.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo one\u2019s social distancing\u2014I don\u2019t want to catch COVID.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Elsa stretched out on the sofa in the dark family room, holding a glass of organic wine. She had just finished two consecutive episodes of the Scottish detective drama. It was past eleven. She wouldn\u2019t be able to get up early. Though, Leroy would be the only one who would notice if she slept in. Hugo left for the university before eight, and lately, Flora and Oscar slept until nearly noon. She took a sip of wine, spilling a little on her chest, as the third episode began.<\/p>\n<h5>\u00a0\u00a9Mix Hart 2020<\/h5>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A Rose Garden Chapter 4 June \u201cWhat time is supper?\u201d Flora asked. At first glance, Flora looked concerningly sweaty and flushed, but as she walked into the kitchen, Elsa realized that her face was purposely painted pink with a glossy &hellip; <a class=\"kt-excerpt-readmore\" href=\"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/a-rose-garden-chapter-4\/\" aria-label=\"A Rose Garden Chapter 4\">Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":18490,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"kt_blocks_editor_width":"","_kad_blocks_custom_css":"","_kad_blocks_head_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_body_custom_js":"","_kad_blocks_footer_custom_js":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[3699],"tags":[3725,3723,3720,3718,3719,3717,3338,3715,3716,3339,3721,3722,3727,3726,3728,3724,2714,3710,3517,1904,3730,3712,3714,3,3729,3709,3370,3713,3711,349],"class_list":["post-18519","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-narrative","tag-amreading","tag-author","tag-bibliophile","tag-book","tag-bookish","tag-booklover","tag-booknerd","tag-books","tag-bookworm","tag-drama","tag-familylife","tag-literature","tag-modernlife","tag-storyteller","tag-westcoastlife","tag-writer","tag-canadian-author","tag-covid-living","tag-family","tag-family-life","tag-family-saga","tag-fiction","tag-literary-serial","tag-mix-hart","tag-new-book","tag-novelette","tag-reading","tag-short-story","tag-surviving-covid","tag-writing"],"aioseo_notices":[],"taxonomy_info":{"category":[{"value":3699,"label":"Narrative"}],"post_tag":[{"value":3725,"label":"#amreading"},{"value":3723,"label":"#author"},{"value":3720,"label":"#bibliophile"},{"value":3718,"label":"#book"},{"value":3719,"label":"#bookish"},{"value":3717,"label":"#booklover"},{"value":3338,"label":"#booknerd"},{"value":3715,"label":"#books"},{"value":3716,"label":"#bookworm"},{"value":3339,"label":"#drama"},{"value":3721,"label":"#familylife"},{"value":3722,"label":"#literature"},{"value":3727,"label":"#ModernLife"},{"value":3726,"label":"#storyteller"},{"value":3728,"label":"#WestCoastLife"},{"value":3724,"label":"#writer"},{"value":2714,"label":"Canadian author"},{"value":3710,"label":"Covid Living"},{"value":3517,"label":"Family"},{"value":1904,"label":"family life"},{"value":3730,"label":"family saga"},{"value":3712,"label":"Fiction"},{"value":3714,"label":"Literary Serial"},{"value":3,"label":"Mix Hart"},{"value":3729,"label":"new book"},{"value":3709,"label":"novelette"},{"value":3370,"label":"reading"},{"value":3713,"label":"Short Story"},{"value":3711,"label":"Surviving Covid"},{"value":349,"label":"writing"}]},"featured_image_src_large":["https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/CINZEl.jpg",889,889,false],"author_info":{"display_name":"mixhart","author_link":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/author\/mixhart\/"},"comment_info":0,"category_info":[{"term_id":3699,"name":"Narrative","slug":"narrative","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3746,"taxonomy":"category","description":"Engaging narratives, poetry, short stories, essays, novelettes, novella's and novels by MIx Hart ","parent":0,"count":16,"filter":"raw","cat_ID":3699,"category_count":16,"category_description":"Engaging narratives, poetry, short stories, essays, novelettes, novella's and novels by MIx Hart ","cat_name":"Narrative","category_nicename":"narrative","category_parent":0}],"tag_info":[{"term_id":3725,"name":"#amreading","slug":"amreading","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3772,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3723,"name":"#author","slug":"author","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3770,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":7,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3720,"name":"#bibliophile","slug":"bibliophile","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3767,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3718,"name":"#book","slug":"book","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3765,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3719,"name":"#bookish","slug":"bookish","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3766,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3717,"name":"#booklover","slug":"booklover","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3764,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3338,"name":"#booknerd","slug":"booknerd","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3385,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":7,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3715,"name":"#books","slug":"books","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3762,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3716,"name":"#bookworm","slug":"bookworm","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3763,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3339,"name":"#drama","slug":"drama","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3386,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":8,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3721,"name":"#familylife","slug":"familylife","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3768,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3722,"name":"#literature","slug":"literature","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3769,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3727,"name":"#ModernLife","slug":"modernlife","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3774,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3726,"name":"#storyteller","slug":"storyteller","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3773,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3728,"name":"#WestCoastLife","slug":"westcoastlife","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3775,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3724,"name":"#writer","slug":"writer","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3771,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":2714,"name":"Canadian author","slug":"canadian-author","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":2774,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":9,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3710,"name":"Covid Living","slug":"covid-living","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3757,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":7,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3517,"name":"Family","slug":"family","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3564,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":9,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":1904,"name":"family life","slug":"family-life","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":1959,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":25,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3730,"name":"family saga","slug":"family-saga","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3777,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":4,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3712,"name":"Fiction","slug":"fiction","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3759,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3714,"name":"Literary Serial","slug":"literary-serial","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3761,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3,"name":"Mix Hart","slug":"mix-hart","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":14,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3729,"name":"new book","slug":"new-book","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3776,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":4,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3709,"name":"novelette","slug":"novelette","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3756,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3370,"name":"reading","slug":"reading","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3417,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":7,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3713,"name":"Short Story","slug":"short-story","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3760,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":6,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":3711,"name":"Surviving Covid","slug":"surviving-covid","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":3758,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":7,"filter":"raw"},{"term_id":349,"name":"writing","slug":"writing","term_group":0,"term_taxonomy_id":1617,"taxonomy":"post_tag","description":"","parent":0,"count":13,"filter":"raw"}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18519","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18519"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18519\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18527,"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18519\/revisions\/18527"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/18490"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18519"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18519"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.mixhart.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18519"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}