Sunday - 261st

Do you remember the commercial that implored you to let your fingers do the walking (through the Yellow Pages)? Funny how, sixty years later, we've come around to just that: finger shopping. I should be pleased. I so dislike malls and department stores and long check out lines. (I do like small shops, but they are a rare breed, unless you live in the city or in a place rich with small shop tradition.) Nonetheless, finger shopping, aka online buying can be numbing. Today is proof of that.

It's not that I wasn't excited to start in on heavy duty holiday gift purchasing. After the morning walk, of course.

 

And after breakfast -- which I moved to the sun room because of... the sun!

But you just should not do long stretches of it. Too much clicking and digital page turning will drive you nuts. Or, near nuts.

In the afternoon, Ed pulls me out of my screen stupor and suggests we take a walk:  a path that sort of kind is okay. Couldn't be more than a mile from where we live. One might even call it a "river walk."

But it doesn't really go anywhere. It deteriorates into a muddy wetland. In the winter, we sometimes ski here and even then, you feel you're not exactly on solid ground. And did I mention the winds? They are ferocious!

Still, the walk clears the head. And we do get to wave good bye to the sandhill cranes who are ready to make their journey south.

Evening. I do a dinner delivery. Hi guys!

And home again. Same Sunday dinner. Same ingredients! That's what they want, that's what I cook. For them, for us. There may be great uncertainty in our lives right now, but my kids know this: if there's a dinner food they crave, I'll cook it for them.