Right about now I would like a nice pint of something pubbish, with maybe a little music playing in the background just loudly enough to make me tap along, and perhaps a few very friendly people asking me how the wee lasses and lads in my life are gettin' by. In other words, some spirited Irish áthas maireachtála (that would be joy of living, in case you're not up on your Irish Gaelic).
Instead, the day is threatening to be a rerun of yesterday. More car issues, this time only with fixing and selling the old one, and more mundane errands (like picking up a new car battery at Walmart), and more drippy cool weather (so no chance of yard work, or a walk in our county park).
Except it's not really like yesterday because we are that much closer to fine spring weather and we're not threatened by the storms that are ravaging the south, and people are taking precautions so our county COVID hospitalization rates remain a small fraction (like, one seventh) of what they were back in the nightmare fall of last year.
And, too, breakfast in the play room was lovely...
And our errand run was delightful (made even more so by the incredibly quiet ride of Blue Moon), and though we did not walk, we paused at the side of the road to admire the sole sandhill...
... and the herd of deer almost hidden against the dark backdrop of a still naked forest. (I may as well love them now, because I'll be less enthusiastic about their visits once my spring garden gets going.)
Now, it is true that the grass is greener in Ireland right now. It's always green there. Year round. But, Irish pubs are closed and they will remain closed for the next two months, so the cold pint and the singing is confined to the Irish home. Still, there is every reason to embrace the Irish áthas maireachtála now, even if you're stuck at home. Think about spring. Think about how fine it will feel when we've helped our communities and indeed, communities worldwide to beat back the beastly menace. I'll save my cold pint for that day. (In the meantime -- well, there's always popcorn. And a glass of chilled white Burgundy.)
