We spoke to a live human being today! For us, this is most unusual. Aside from my daughter's family and one dental visit, we've seen no one, except perhaps through the rear-view mirror, at a curbside pickup of groceries, flowers, or wine. But today, as I drove up the driveway (returning home after being with the kids at my daughter's), I nearly bumped into Matt from Blue Valley farms as he was dropping off his delivery of asparagus and spinach. He was pausing to chat with Ed at a very acceptable distance of course. I joined in.
It felt both like old times and a bit strange all at once.
In the course of our conversation, I learned that both Matt and his wife continue to "meet" with their book groups, albeit via Zoom. And I thought -- book clubs! I should return to that long forgotten social construct. I don't know many people (women especially) who are not part of a book club. And then I spun back to reality: I don't have the time for it. At least not if I also want to keep up with my own reading list. Indeed, I don't have time for much of anything over and beyond what is before me right now.
Retirement has never felt so busy.
It's the usual stuff. Animals in the morning. (A nice morning, though a bit cool and definitely gray. But the crab! And the lilacs!)
Then come the weekly groceries. Bags of them. Wash, scrub, wash scrub. Dry, put away, unload the rest, put aside for three days. Wash hands for the hundredth time.
And now I rush to get breakfast on the table. Ed's sleeping still, but I need to get going. Ed!
He comes down. A quick run through what's ahead for us today and I'm off to see Snowdrop and Sparrow.
(The little girl says -- gaga, I want to clean up my room. Will you help me? Sure! You do the hard stuff, I'll do the easy stuff! Why? You're better at hard stuff! But in the end, she does nearly all of it herself. Sparrow helps by not taking out more stuff.)
(Downstairs play: he just wants to be part of her story...)
Lunch!
(All done!)
And now I am home and thoughts of book groups are long gone. Mom issues dominate the afternoon. There are some immediate little things and, too, big stuff: messed up bills that need careful handling, coordination problems that need thoughtful attention, long waits, lots of discussion. All afternoon long. And I'm not nearly done.
I do take a break for a walk. No time for anything big. Just up and down the farmette lands. Good for the soul if not for the aerobic benefit. I don't pick weeds. After all the rains, there are too many.
Supper -- soup, with all those CSA greens. Sorrel, spinach, stinging nettle. Yellow onion, wild green ramps, white garlic, and green garlic. Sauteed. Herbs, of course. And a dice of parsnip, because I have so much! Pureed lightly, then left alone as I add chopped asparagus and a handful of corn kernels. And cannellini beans. All sprinkled with cheese. Good and nourishing. But late. Very late. (All those greens and I still make a salad. We are that hooked on salads every night.)
Emails, posting, and pop corn for the one hour thriller followed by the half hour sit com. Read a few pages, but only a few, because the eyes close. There. A day in a nutshell.
It felt both like old times and a bit strange all at once.
In the course of our conversation, I learned that both Matt and his wife continue to "meet" with their book groups, albeit via Zoom. And I thought -- book clubs! I should return to that long forgotten social construct. I don't know many people (women especially) who are not part of a book club. And then I spun back to reality: I don't have the time for it. At least not if I also want to keep up with my own reading list. Indeed, I don't have time for much of anything over and beyond what is before me right now.
Retirement has never felt so busy.
It's the usual stuff. Animals in the morning. (A nice morning, though a bit cool and definitely gray. But the crab! And the lilacs!)
Then come the weekly groceries. Bags of them. Wash, scrub, wash scrub. Dry, put away, unload the rest, put aside for three days. Wash hands for the hundredth time.
And now I rush to get breakfast on the table. Ed's sleeping still, but I need to get going. Ed!
He comes down. A quick run through what's ahead for us today and I'm off to see Snowdrop and Sparrow.
(The little girl says -- gaga, I want to clean up my room. Will you help me? Sure! You do the hard stuff, I'll do the easy stuff! Why? You're better at hard stuff! But in the end, she does nearly all of it herself. Sparrow helps by not taking out more stuff.)
(Downstairs play: he just wants to be part of her story...)
Lunch!
(All done!)
And now I am home and thoughts of book groups are long gone. Mom issues dominate the afternoon. There are some immediate little things and, too, big stuff: messed up bills that need careful handling, coordination problems that need thoughtful attention, long waits, lots of discussion. All afternoon long. And I'm not nearly done.
I do take a break for a walk. No time for anything big. Just up and down the farmette lands. Good for the soul if not for the aerobic benefit. I don't pick weeds. After all the rains, there are too many.
Supper -- soup, with all those CSA greens. Sorrel, spinach, stinging nettle. Yellow onion, wild green ramps, white garlic, and green garlic. Sauteed. Herbs, of course. And a dice of parsnip, because I have so much! Pureed lightly, then left alone as I add chopped asparagus and a handful of corn kernels. And cannellini beans. All sprinkled with cheese. Good and nourishing. But late. Very late. (All those greens and I still make a salad. We are that hooked on salads every night.)
Emails, posting, and pop corn for the one hour thriller followed by the half hour sit com. Read a few pages, but only a few, because the eyes close. There. A day in a nutshell.
