It seems like every little event needs counting now. Days since the lockdown began. Days since Mr. FixIt’s first stroke. Days since the second...which is actually the third since he was unaware of the first one. Thankfully, he came home from the hospital yesterday at 11:00. I can already tell this time it’s going to be more of a challenge getting him to slow down and take care of himself. I’m just as stubborn as he is though...I will prevail!
Days of unexpected loss. We all get them. We never know when the next one will strike. Yesterday was just such a day. We started out the day with another trip to the Emergency Room for what appears to be another small stroke for my beloved Mr. FixIt. I had a taste of what if feels like for those desperately frightened family members who drop their loved ones off at the ER door then drive off. Or, in my case...drive to the parking lot and sit. All day.
This week flew by. All these projects keep me from dwelling on the time creep and we wrapped up the week with a bang! Mr. FixIt got the mower deck off the old tractor to get it welded. I fed the sourdough and made a batch of blackberry jam. Unfortunately, it didn’t set so I need to do it over today. Just repeat the process and add more pectin. I cut the fresh tofu in half inch cubes and set it in the fridge to marinate for supper. Harvested the alfalfa sprouts I’ve been growing in the kitchen. I saved the blackberry containers to use to keep the sprouts fresh in the fridge...score! I drained the coffee elixir from my Toddy brewer for cold brew. So that’s ready for some delicious iced coffees in the coming weeks. We tilled the garden and planted fifteen tomato plants, two hills of squash...one yellow crookneck and the other zucchini, and I planted some extra squash in a planter I have. I like to let the squash get really big, then cube them up and can them like bread and butter pickles. I washed dishes a hundred times. I took lots of pictures to share but I’ll wait till the jam actually sets. Then I will share some. Till then..I’m done. This was a beyond tired day but we needed to get it done before the rain comes again.
This feels good...this level of busy. It’s not the kind of busy that you do to avoid dealing with something like grief. I’ve done that kind of busy. This is goal oriented, let’s-get-something-done-around-here busy. My poor husband. We’ve spent the better part of the last three months sitting in our recliners binge-watching the entire seven years of West Wing. We finished it on Monday. I swear, we looked at each other with a hint of sadness and said, “Now what?” Poor guy didn’t know what hit him...out came “the list”.
One of the biggest challenges the coronavirus has presented me is keeping my mouth shut when I read things that are diametrically opposite to my own beliefs. Opinions, theories, assumptions, disinformation, half-truths, and flat out lies occupy the space where my friends and I have met to visit every day since 2009. It’s like throwing a lovely garden party and your crazy uncle drops in. You want to be nice, but he’s ruining your fun. How do you make him leave without hurting his feelings?
So, after my virtual meltdown on my blog yesterday, Mr. FixIt and I had a really beautiful day. We’ve been binge-watching West Wing and we are down to the last disk in the collection...the final three episodes. We have really enjoyed this series and I was thrilled to introduce my husband to its intricacies. I think he had only watched a couple of episodes back when it was on the air, and it’s one of those shows you really should watch in succession in order to bond with the characters.
Several weeks ago, I asked a question on my personal Facebook page: “Shouldn’t married couples quarantine separately? (Asking for a friend)” I got a lot of responses. Many laughed and knew the tongue-in-cheek nature of the question. Some professed their undying love for their husbands and how fabulous it’s been being with them 24/7. I’m not sure they realized they might have to do this ad infinitum. I haven’t checked back in with them to see how they’re doing...for two reasons. If they are still all googly-eyed and swooning over every moment of his presence, either my friends are big fat liars...or I’m a total failure at this shelter-in-place thing.
As I sat at my keyboard last night, I looked for pictures of my mom and thought of all the Mother’s Days we had together. Really...very few. Once I left home to seek my fortunes, I am not sure we ever got to see each other on Mother’s Day. I always came home in the summer months when the kids were off of school. But I always called her and sent her a card and flowers.
I know I’m not the only one baking up a storm. You can’t find yeast. Flour is in short supply. There really is something to that theory of reaching back for comforting smells and tastes when you are going through troubling times. And there are not many aromas more comforting than bread baking in the oven.
As I’ve told you in the last couple of weeks, I have never explored the wonders of sourdough so I felt it was high time to try my hand at it. Bread has been around longer than metal. Our earliest ancestors baked flatbread from the grains they gathered and ground between stones. Egyptians recorded the use of leavening in both beer and bread. Wild yeasts have been used since before the written word.
Yes, it’s Friday again. Whether you feel like it’s only been a couple of days since last Friday, or this week has been 53 days long...it’s that time of the week where we look on the bright side if we can. Hopefully there has been at least one good and positive thing happen to you this week.