Thursday - 321st

Have you thought much about spring yet? No? Me neither. No movement on the garden plans, no thoughts on ever doing anything normal. There are, in my mind, too many question marks still (I'm sure you know them all) to think much about anything except today and the next day. Maybe at a stretch -- the day after that.

Ed, on the other hand, is, for once, more forward looking. Spring ideas are hatching, as if this were 2019 instead of 2021, which so far looks pretty much like 2020, except for what's going on in D.C. But otherwise, we isolate, we wear masks and frown at those who do not, we walk or ski, we wash groceries. Or at least I do. Because "small chance" may not be so small in the weeks ahead so we may as well continue to be vigilant. So I listen to Ed and his ideas for what's next and I marvel how two people can be so close and yet so different. Because we are different, but I guess you already know that.

Morning walk -- as predicted, even colder!

 

 

Morning breakfast -- groceries came yesterday with three delicate stalks of delphinium. Exquisite. Perhaps a little out of place in January, but these days, you have to break out of old ideas to keep yourself sane.

I do try to return to my writing, but I am at a point where I am fed up with my inability to ever finish the damn thing. Everything always needs an improvement. And the longer I dally and fuss with it, the more I evolve (or maybe regress, who knows) in my writing and thus the more I become dissatisfied with what's there. I'm sure this is true for most anyone who takes fifty years to complete a writing project, but still, if I had a mirror before me, I'd look at myself right now and say -- you need to be done with this already, or else.

No mirror, therefore no admonition. 

In the afternoon, Ed and I go skiing. I almost do not want to (inside, looking out feels cold!) but in the end, we go and as always, it's beautiful.

The evening gem: FaceTiming with Primrose!

The evening un-gem: two Netflix movies -- one bad enough to ditch early on, the other just good enough to keep on watching, but with deep regrets throughout.

And tomorrow -- what's in store for tomorrow? Well, for one thing, Snowdrop is returning to school. First time since last March. She is... excited!

Wednesday - 320th

It's colder than cold and tonight it will be even colder than this cold. Not quite a polar vortex, but it definitely feels like we're in for a period of typical Wisconsin winter days. But is that a bad thing? For people who like deep winter over dreary drippy November, or the excessive heat in late August, a little bit of cold feels mighty fine, especially when accompanied by sunshine. And we do wake up to brilliant sunshine.

 

Our days have a rhythm to them and it is both gentle and sweet. We wait, of course, to rejoin the world some day, but right now there's not much of a world to rejoin, so waiting feels almost communal. Who right now isn't waiting for a better world out there? (Actually, I'm not sure Ed is waiting. Zoom was invented with him in mind.)

In the summer, I love the feel of the sun on my face, but I also love the winter cold on my cheeks. The bite of the wind? So long as the rest of me is warm, I think it's so exhilarating to be slapped around by a winter wind. It's like a spa treatment, no? You emerge feeling strong and powerful! And very pink in the face.

I heard from my kids, but not my grandkids today. But Ed got a call. From Snowdrop. She wanted to discuss climate change with him. I think they are on the same page about it.

Dance visits. She is learning to write.

 

 

Ed and I go skiing and it is nothing short of fabulous. The snow, the sun, the shadows it casts in the forest -- that's real beauty for you.

We ski out onto Lake Waubesa. I will never feel 100% safe out on a frozen lake, but honestly -- if not today, then when? It's so cold outside! Of course it's frozen!

A shadow selfie, on the lake.

The full moon comes up tomorrow, but I swear, the face of today's moon is good enough!

We end with a frittata. A supper that I so much associate with winter. Except when it's summer. 

 

 

I hope the moon's bright face shines down on you tonight, tomorrow, and many days thereafter.

With love.

Tuesday - 319th

Well, we got a great big dollop of snow again! Beautiful stuff -- downy and light, drifting just a little, creating a fresh new look to our now familiar winter farmette landscape.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everyone stays inside. Chickens never leave the coop, the cats stay in the sheep shed (all but Dance who sometimes acts like she is a dog, staying near me, watching where I go), Ed stays in bed.

("are we going to the shed for breakfast soon?")

("it would be good if you cleared the path of snow.")

("it's too deep for comfort...")

("Phew! Almost there! I see the other cats have blazed the trail for me...")

Ed and I had compared post vaccine symptoms and came to the unremarkable conclusion that they were exactly the same (sore arm), but I think he seized on this excuse of the theoretical possibility of lethargy to rest up a little. Still, he does lumber down for breakfast!

We talk about the snow. About how pretty it is. (It's snowing once again...)

 

 

 

And I recount this story from today: I had texted my daughter, asking how Snowdrop was liking her new teacher and classmates. She is starting new everything next week -- a first entrance into her new school building, with a new teacher and mostly new classmates, though some are being transferred, along with her, from her Zoom class. Today they were all going to have a Zoom meeting: new kids, new teacher, Snowdrop.

My daughter responded -- school was cancelled. (We're talking about the Zoom online meetup today.)

Why? -  I asked, surprised.

They're taking a snow day.

So in case you are wondering if snow days are a thing of the past, now that we have online instruction so niftily in place, the answer is no, they are not.

Ed and I, of course, go nowhere and see no one. And on a day like this, who could mind a cozy snuggle on the couch with whatever it is that you want to do -- torture yourself with politics, learn a new language, write a book perhaps. Just some possibilities...

Toward evening the snow tapers off and indeed, we even see a few breaks in the clouds. Time to head out with skis!

And it is gorgeous out there in our county park. It's windy as anything and perhaps for this reason, we see no one on the trails, just the grooming truck that magically transforms the path into skiable terrain.

We felt rich, really rich. A quiet, almost secluded ski path, groomed for us as we moved along. A biting wind turning our cheeks brightly red. Even swans! As if we were on an estate, with tended grounds and swans on lakes and maybe a peacock... Well, no peacock, but yes to swans! (They are either the trumperter or the tundra swan. Both pass through Madison each year.)

Beautiful skiing moment on a winter wonderland kind of a day. We've been getting a lot of them this winter. And that's such a gift in this super challenging season.

Monday - 318th

It's a memorable day. Not because of the weather -- it's cold and gray, though every once in a while, you can see the telltale signs of a streak of sunlight. So nothing special there.

(Every time the cheepers leave the barn to walk to the garage, the two older girls, Peach and Java, get stuck in the snow and I have to carry them to their end point. And then back again.)

 

 

And not because of my thunderous race through cooking and baking tasks, even before breakfast. 

And certainly not because of breakfast itself. Is there a day when we don't sit down to something akin to this? There is not.

(Dance comes in for a visit, but chooses a bit of sun on the playroom windowsill over a boring meal with us.)

There are two events that do make this day special. First of all, Ed finally agrees to subscribe to Netflix. (Meaning he doesn't protest with horror when I subscribe to Netflix.)  For years he has struggled to convince me that there is enough free stuff out there and that we don't need Netflix, nor any other paid streaming option. At the beginning of the pandemic, I told him we should dish out the $9 per month already, but he was adamant that we could stay pure and free of such paid indulgences. Ed is the only person I know who does not enjoy spending money in any shape or form. Indeed, some years back, he took a break from work and moved to a shack that he put up in the woods of Tennessee, spending I'm sure less than $1000 for the many months he lived there. Materials for shack included. The Thoreau in him limited his forays to occasional trips to a public library. His big splurge? A malted at the counter of a five and dime in a nearby town. Otherwise he... well, enjoyed the forest.

But our evening viewing options now are running awfully thin. I can't tell you how many movies we click on, then click off five minutes into the show.  And so finally, today, he caved and we signed up, or rather I signed up for a Netflix account. Hey! The first month you get a free upgrade!

Before settling into our nighttime ritual of movie viewing, I had a sprinkling of other highlights. My weekly Zoom meetup with Snowdrop!

And cooking "Sunday" dinner for the young family, and baking a cake that the little girl requested. She told me it should be chocolate with chocolate icing and strawberry dots all over and strawberry lettering announcing the year 2021. Oh, and a heart around that number. It must have a heart. I puree some strawberries, get out the cocoa and get to work.

(Later, I ask her -- is this what you had in mind? She hesitates, gives a radiant smile and says -- close enough.)

(Delivering dinner, including cake...)

I mentioned two super memorable moments for this day. So there was the Netflix and then, too, there was the COVID vaccination. 

Wisconsin rolled out its vaccine for those 65 and up today and luck, plus a lot of legwork (is it still legwork if you use your computer?) to search out and sign up for possible vaccination appointments, lead to an invitation for appointments for the both of us for today. 

It wasn't with any great fanfare, not like those who received a shot at the Salisbury Cathedral in England, where the organist played joyous music as people came in for their shots, but it was grand anyway. Small pharmacy, a little chaotic, a lot too crowded for our neurotically isolationist preferences, but a huge moment nonetheless. 

I write this with a great deal of gratitude to those who lead us to this first step toward pandemic relief, but, too, I am well aware of the fact that there are many many people who want this vaccine and only a few who manage to land it at this stage. So I have not a small amount of humility as well: Ed and I were lucky. I wish all could be lucky along with us.

And now for our first Netflix moment, with popcorn and a celebratory glass of wine. And wee bit of a sulking Ed. He does not like to surrender to a commercial giant.

Sunday - 317th

This morning, while Ed was sleeping, I fed the animals, took care of the shed plants, shoveled the looooong driveway, cleaned the bathroom, fixed breakfast, and cut my hair.

Is it that Ed slept for a very long time, or was I especially efficient? Running at full speed ahead? Perhaps even enjoying a little bit the challenges of this day? 

It is, in fact, a pretty morning. We have several added inches of snow to freshen things up a bit. (Underneath it, the ice is thick, so we're in that uncomfortable moment where you are going to slip and slide no matter how much you shovel.) My morning walk, despite the gray clouds, is exceptionally pleasant!

(It's when you begin to photograph your landscape that you notice that your trees rarely grow straight up!)

We are just several degrees below freezing and the cats see that as an invitation to frolic. And I do too. Shoveling is just a little bit fun! (I do not know why Dance goes out of her way to pose next to the cat sign!)

And the hair cut? Well, I got tired of watching videos. Ed asks me later how many I'd seen and the answer is perhaps as many as two dozen, with none of them being especially good, but each one offering another clue as to how to proceed. So I carried the one mirror that we have to the living room and set up shop.

 

 

Before.

After.

Ed woke up, took one look and gave me a thumbs up. (I had him inspect the back and he took a couple of snips, but said that it all looked fine. Now, his idea of "fine" is not necessarily my idea of fine, hence my decision to go with DIY rather than have him do the cut, but still, I am satisfied.) 

Will I now always cut my own hair -- he asks. I have no answer for it, in the same way that I do not know if I'll stick with grocery deliveries (rather than in person shopping), or driving to see the Chicago young family (rather than taking the bus) after the pandemic. I can't think that far ahead. For 317 days I have taken one day at a time!

Breakfast. This morning, Dance joins us.

The afternoon is a little unusual in that I am not cooking for the young family. We moved Sunday dinner to Monday as they have family members passing through their place tonight. So I'll pretend tomorrow is Sunday and in the meantime I use this day to catch up on writing and, of course, to ski with Ed. I think there must be some football event this afternoon because there is absolutely no one on the trails in the park.

A winter without snow is always such a punishment! This year we have plenty of things to gripe about, but at least we've had a terrific snow cover.  We are soooo grateful for it!

Saturday - 316th

In normal times, a day like this one would be ho-hum. What did you do? Oh, not much, just ran a few errands. But in these unusual times, I feel like we just ran a marathon. True, we skirted social contact, never letting ourselves get too close to people, but still, we plunged into a denser world than the one we have been inhabiting now for 316 days.

It is again a cold day, so let's start there. Cold, but sunny. At least in these early hours.

 

(I feed the cats in the sheep shed. Nice and warm there! We're wintering over two of the big orchids on the sunny windowsills. They are blooming their heads off this year!)

I check the barn. No more possums in the trap. Cheepers safe. Cats fed. 

Breakfast served. (Note the regalia of flowers! Typically I get one bunch with each grocery order, which is about what you need to keep a fresh bouquet on your table all year. But somehow this week the old flowers had more than one life packed into them. Nothing is fading. So we have now not one, not two, but three bunches! It's a January miracle!)

Then we start in on our loop of errands. The best comes first -- a brief trip to my daughter's to drop off some books for the kids and some odd foods to nibble on. Then comes a stop at the Amazon drop off place, where we must deposit two microwaves. (Yes two. We have been trying to replace the one that failed now over a year ago and each time a new one comes, there is a problem. It doesn't work. It breaks. It's the wrong one. We have been buying and returning microwaves for over a year!) Next -- fill the car with gas. That's boring, until a guy drives up and barrels out of the car next to us mask-less. Grrr. I got out of there just in time, but in my hurry I slammed the door on my finger which is now threatening to fall off. Well, maybe not fall off, but it does look puffy and very purple. Still not done yet! Next comes a stop at the curbside pick-up of farmers market carrots. Yes! Lovely and delicious. And eggs, because our cheepers lay very few in the wintertime and those very few have been gobbled up by the family of possum this past week. And finally our last stop for a walk in the city park that is just by the market pickup site-- Olin Park, that abuts Lake Monona (the second largest lake in Madison). 

So! Errands accomplished, finger still hanging on, people remained at a distance, but more importantly, we had some beautiful moments sprinkled throughout. The highlight? Oh, unquestionably the trip to my daughter's. The sun was out, the kids were still in their pj's, the moods all around were brilliant!

And also at the top of the list? The walk in the park. Ed always suggests that we include it in our repertoire of park hikes and I always resist, claiming that it surely must have lots of people since it is smack at the edge of the downtown area. But in fact, it never has many people and moreover, it has a gorgeous view onto the lake and the Madison skyline and in the winter, you can avoid most anyone by simply walking on the lake! Which we do and after this last cold snap and even I'm not *too* worried about the strength of the ice cover! (In fact, you need the ice to be at least 4 inches thick to be safe for walking and I read later that Lake Monona of today's adventure has been that for all of January.) 

Photos from our walk:

(Always the awesome and frightening cracks in the ice! I do read later that Lake Monona has had an ice cover more than 4 inches thick, that is safe for walking, for all of January, but still...)

(Such a fine view of Madison's isthmus!)

(must do a selfie!)

No hair cut today! I'm not so ambitious as to fit even more into one day!