There’s 2 ways to look at this.  Wow, has it only been 6 weeks? Or, OMG, it’s been SIX weeks!  I’m old(er) and avoiding going out into the world where this virus seems to be everywhere around us. I’ve been away 3 times in 6 weeks: twice to a small Mennonite store that has lots of good everything, and once to a farm to get eggs.  My son and DIL bring me some things and I’ve ordered some things online to be delivered.  And I saw this coming, and wonder why other people didn’t, and stocked up on a bunch of non-perishable essentials.  Like toilet paper, oh so essential, and that was good to do, since people are hoarding it (and many other things)  and making it impossible for lots of people to buy.

I visit with my kids on our back porches, 8′ away across the back of a double house.  We even has a little birthday visit with them out there and had sandwiches delivered from a local pizza/sub shop.  It’s not like sitting down together in the kitchen, but it’s a way to visit the 2 people I miss the most. They are both essential workers and are out in the world following all the guidelines and being very careful to protect themselves, but still not getting near me.

I think  I should start my car up and run it a little, even tho I know the battery is good.  So I have this idea that either shows I’ve gone crazy or that my mind is working well in imaginative ways.  I think I’ll pull the car out of the garage and sit in it about 10 minutes, pretending I’m actually going somewhere, lol. Let’s see, where would I go……to cruise around in a grocery store and pick up a few things I’m missing……to my favorite Japanese restaurant and have a Bento box…….can’t go too far away like for the beach trip we had to cancel, cos I’m only going to run the car for 10 minutes. 🙂

No I don’t think I’ve gone crazy, and seriously I’m thankful for the blessings we have. I’m thankful to be retired and able to stay home. But we have to laugh some cos otherwise we would all just go nuts.

People are protesting the closing of businesses (and the loss of their rights) and are likely exposing themselves in the crowded protests. The economy is going further into the crapper and thousands of people are lining up for the first time, asking for food from food banks.  Anger and hatred continue to grow along with major divisiveness. I’m not part of any of that, so I won’t complain too much, and will continue to stay home and count my multiple blessings.

It’s spring and the beginning of gardening season.  I have tiny seedlings of tomatoes and sweet and hot peppers that are up and making their little root systems under the ground, with their first leaves spread out collecting the sunlight. It’s been colder than normal at night so I take them out to my little hoop house in the morning and bring them back in the kitchen each night that it will get close to freezing.  (One pot of mustard greens I’m growing for little Geyri has to be hung up when I bring it inside.  That’s because my cat likes green growing things and quickly pulled 3 little seedlings out of the ground when she saw them. No more of that, they get hung up out of her reach.  Other pots get covered up with a rug as they sit on the kitchen floor.)

Each spring I wait and listen when I’m outside for a special little tiny bird song, and the arrival of Jenny wrens. My father started my love of these little birds when I was a kid, making nest boxes for them and being so happy when they came to live in our yard. https://sarasinart.net/2014/05/01/jenny-wren-knows-when-to-come/

The male usually comes about 5/1, and I’ve always been careful to hang up the boxes early.  The male comes and hopefully finds his same nesting spot as years before, but also locates another spot near there.  Then the female comes a few days later and gets to choose.  So I have 2 boxes available, tho they always nest in the same place anyway.  Since it’s been colder than normal, I haven’t been outside much to hear the male singing around his first chosen spot the way they always do.

But this morning I looked out the kitchen door and there was one little wren throwing sticks out of the favorite box, getting ready to build a nest for this year.  We don’t clean out the boxes, since the birds prefer to do it themselves, seeing their old nest and knowing nothing else was in the box.  (They don’t know the boxes get taken down and stored in the garage for the winter. They just know the box is in the right spot, and evidence of them being the last birds to live in it is still there.)

So gardening goes on, and Jenny is building a nest, and I stay at home waiting for the nightmare of all of this to end.  And count my blessings, all of them.  I hope you are well and counting your blessings as well, in a situation where we feel so lost and our world feels out of control.