Beautiful sunshine! Happy happy sunny day to you too!
Ed and I are in our 4th day of complete isolation. We've not been anywhere near a public place or a near a person since Friday. But we do continue for now to form a cocoon with the young family. It's as if we live in one household, separated by a car ride. Sort of like a long corridor from their rooms to ours. They, too, are practicing isolation, though we got a couple of days' head start on them!
It should have struck me that throwing out a light mention of something health related on Ocean would lead some of you to send me sweet emails of concern. So, let me reassure you that any percolating health issue had nothing to do with any virus whatsoever. The tough reality is that life goes on despite the accelerated presence of the virus. Our medical facilities have been attending to the health care needs of people full time, before they had to take on the virus-related case load. These other needs have not gone away. Without question, in my mind, the heroes now are the nurses and doctors on the front lines, who suddenly doubled their workload under the toughest conditions.
[Having said that, I do understand that I am navigating a minefield of privacy issues. Should someone I know get sick, it's not for me to write about that here. But at least for now, we're all starting out at the same virus free gate. As you are too!]
I have another thought on the topic of the virus. I am reminded of past calamities facing the world: everyone talks now about the Spanish flu. About other crises. You like to remember the good guys, but of course, we've since learned that there were plenty of not-so-good guys during the pandemic of 1918. That in a "fend for yourself" mode, people turned mean. Fast forward to now. I've read more social media lately than I usually do, in part because I want to hear how friends are coping and offer some words of encouragement or support if needed. And though I would "unfriend" in a flash anyone I thought was mean or a bully, I'm seeing elements of blame-filled words in comments to others. Since we have now the tools to be even meaner than back in 1918, where FaceBook and the like were not even a fantasy, I wonder if we'll stay compassionate now, or if we once again will reveal our inner fiendishness. So far, my small orbit allows me to see a whole heap of kindness. I hope your experiences veer in this direction as well and will continue to do so!
So, back to the sunshine!
After breakfast...
... Ed and I go out for a walk in our favorite county park. We ride the motorbike, because it saves depleting the gas in the car and as I huddle behind the big guy, I again think how grand it is that we are at the edge of spring!
At noon, two things happen. First, I receive (for the first time ever) a grocery delivery. Just a few bags, to test how Ed and I will treat the arrival of foods from the outside world. A practice run on what to wash and clean, what to leave alone overnight.
The second event is more jovial: the kids arrive at the farmhouse. It's a rather extended visit because the young family is still wrapping up the medical emergency that arose (all's good, everyone's fine now!) and I worry that the day here will be too long for them. But of course, time flies.
(Lunch, waiting for the bubbles to appear on the pancakes so we can flip them!)
(Ed: Snowdrop, do you know why the bubbles appear?)
(Sparrow doesn't care about bubbles...)
(Snowdrop, thrilled to have free access to the now much appreciated blueberries...)
(While Sparrow naps, Snowdrop goes on a farmette treasure hunt...)
(I promised a movie...)
(Fresh air...)
And now it's evening. I take out the head of cauliflower and chop it up. Defrosted shrimp and all that corn from our golden days of buying dozens of ears of corn from the farmers down the road. Cook it up, stir it, season it and voila. Dinner for two days!
With love.
Ed and I are in our 4th day of complete isolation. We've not been anywhere near a public place or a near a person since Friday. But we do continue for now to form a cocoon with the young family. It's as if we live in one household, separated by a car ride. Sort of like a long corridor from their rooms to ours. They, too, are practicing isolation, though we got a couple of days' head start on them!
It should have struck me that throwing out a light mention of something health related on Ocean would lead some of you to send me sweet emails of concern. So, let me reassure you that any percolating health issue had nothing to do with any virus whatsoever. The tough reality is that life goes on despite the accelerated presence of the virus. Our medical facilities have been attending to the health care needs of people full time, before they had to take on the virus-related case load. These other needs have not gone away. Without question, in my mind, the heroes now are the nurses and doctors on the front lines, who suddenly doubled their workload under the toughest conditions.
[Having said that, I do understand that I am navigating a minefield of privacy issues. Should someone I know get sick, it's not for me to write about that here. But at least for now, we're all starting out at the same virus free gate. As you are too!]
I have another thought on the topic of the virus. I am reminded of past calamities facing the world: everyone talks now about the Spanish flu. About other crises. You like to remember the good guys, but of course, we've since learned that there were plenty of not-so-good guys during the pandemic of 1918. That in a "fend for yourself" mode, people turned mean. Fast forward to now. I've read more social media lately than I usually do, in part because I want to hear how friends are coping and offer some words of encouragement or support if needed. And though I would "unfriend" in a flash anyone I thought was mean or a bully, I'm seeing elements of blame-filled words in comments to others. Since we have now the tools to be even meaner than back in 1918, where FaceBook and the like were not even a fantasy, I wonder if we'll stay compassionate now, or if we once again will reveal our inner fiendishness. So far, my small orbit allows me to see a whole heap of kindness. I hope your experiences veer in this direction as well and will continue to do so!
So, back to the sunshine!
After breakfast...
... Ed and I go out for a walk in our favorite county park. We ride the motorbike, because it saves depleting the gas in the car and as I huddle behind the big guy, I again think how grand it is that we are at the edge of spring!
At noon, two things happen. First, I receive (for the first time ever) a grocery delivery. Just a few bags, to test how Ed and I will treat the arrival of foods from the outside world. A practice run on what to wash and clean, what to leave alone overnight.
The second event is more jovial: the kids arrive at the farmhouse. It's a rather extended visit because the young family is still wrapping up the medical emergency that arose (all's good, everyone's fine now!) and I worry that the day here will be too long for them. But of course, time flies.
(Lunch, waiting for the bubbles to appear on the pancakes so we can flip them!)
(Ed: Snowdrop, do you know why the bubbles appear?)
(Sparrow doesn't care about bubbles...)
(Snowdrop, thrilled to have free access to the now much appreciated blueberries...)
(While Sparrow naps, Snowdrop goes on a farmette treasure hunt...)
(I promised a movie...)
(Fresh air...)
And now it's evening. I take out the head of cauliflower and chop it up. Defrosted shrimp and all that corn from our golden days of buying dozens of ears of corn from the farmers down the road. Cook it up, stir it, season it and voila. Dinner for two days!
With love.
