A big day for us here, at the farmette. A big, beautiful day! For the first time this year, we topped 60F (just over 15C) today!
I am up early. Lots to do! Ed, breakfast!
The kids are here in the morning.
I should have coaxed them to stay outside, but mornings are slow to warm up. That's fine. We have books to read, games to play...
They leave a tad earlier than usual. I have a party to host!
It's a party that was necessarily cancelled at its earlier date -- March 16th. I was supposed to cook dinner for a group of friends then. In Warsaw. Polish friends whom I have known for more than fifty years. Ten of us, celebrating getting together after a year's break.
Of course, I did not go to Warsaw. Instead, Ed and I went into isolation, as did much of the world, or at least the world of people in our demographic.
All my Polish friends live in or just outside Warsaw. It's easy for them to do stuff together. Except of course, it's impossible right now. Restrictions are so tight in Poland, that you are not allowed to go out even for exercise. Dog walking is okay. A grocery store outing? Okay. A hike, a ,jog or a bike ride? No.
And here's another tough blow: nearly all my friends have kids and grandkids who live abroad. Several in the U.S., others -- spread out from England to Italy. Suddenly, seeing the people you love takes on a new meaning.
The idea was floated that my group should have a Zoom party. Their evening is my early afternoon. No matter, pour a glass of wine and join us!
We lasted several hours. I think we all expected it to be business as usual -- light in our banter, as before. That didn't happen. We turned serious pretty quickly. Oh, there were breakout moments (Ed, who was in the background and understood none of it, maintained that I laughed a lot) but still, mostly, we talked about life as we find it today.
Late afternoon. The weather is still splendid. It's time for us farmer wannabes to plant the tomato seeds.
As always, we put the seeds into little cups. We're using last year's seeds, because this year's are lost in transit somewhere. I suggest we turn on the hose water outside (after a winter hiatus). Something breaks. Unstoppable water comes gushing out of the spigot.
Of course, I knew something would break during our period of isolation. Something always breaks at the farmette. Ed caps the mad flow of water for now and ponders as to where the break may be. I return to putting in seeds. In this small way, our April days are unfolding as they did last year and the year before.
Dinner? Oh, I have to make inroads on all that frozen fish from our year-long support of small fisheries of Alaska! How about seared tuna with chimichurri? And a sweet potato? And asparagus?
It's not easy to feel peace when the world is in such chaos. But one must try. And find time to reflect about the noble work of all those heroic people who cannot afford to pause, not even for a moment.
With love.
I am up early. Lots to do! Ed, breakfast!
The kids are here in the morning.
I should have coaxed them to stay outside, but mornings are slow to warm up. That's fine. We have books to read, games to play...
They leave a tad earlier than usual. I have a party to host!
It's a party that was necessarily cancelled at its earlier date -- March 16th. I was supposed to cook dinner for a group of friends then. In Warsaw. Polish friends whom I have known for more than fifty years. Ten of us, celebrating getting together after a year's break.
Of course, I did not go to Warsaw. Instead, Ed and I went into isolation, as did much of the world, or at least the world of people in our demographic.
All my Polish friends live in or just outside Warsaw. It's easy for them to do stuff together. Except of course, it's impossible right now. Restrictions are so tight in Poland, that you are not allowed to go out even for exercise. Dog walking is okay. A grocery store outing? Okay. A hike, a ,jog or a bike ride? No.
And here's another tough blow: nearly all my friends have kids and grandkids who live abroad. Several in the U.S., others -- spread out from England to Italy. Suddenly, seeing the people you love takes on a new meaning.
The idea was floated that my group should have a Zoom party. Their evening is my early afternoon. No matter, pour a glass of wine and join us!
We lasted several hours. I think we all expected it to be business as usual -- light in our banter, as before. That didn't happen. We turned serious pretty quickly. Oh, there were breakout moments (Ed, who was in the background and understood none of it, maintained that I laughed a lot) but still, mostly, we talked about life as we find it today.
Late afternoon. The weather is still splendid. It's time for us farmer wannabes to plant the tomato seeds.
As always, we put the seeds into little cups. We're using last year's seeds, because this year's are lost in transit somewhere. I suggest we turn on the hose water outside (after a winter hiatus). Something breaks. Unstoppable water comes gushing out of the spigot.
Of course, I knew something would break during our period of isolation. Something always breaks at the farmette. Ed caps the mad flow of water for now and ponders as to where the break may be. I return to putting in seeds. In this small way, our April days are unfolding as they did last year and the year before.
Dinner? Oh, I have to make inroads on all that frozen fish from our year-long support of small fisheries of Alaska! How about seared tuna with chimichurri? And a sweet potato? And asparagus?
It's not easy to feel peace when the world is in such chaos. But one must try. And find time to reflect about the noble work of all those heroic people who cannot afford to pause, not even for a moment.
With love.
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