Stodgy New Englanders who might on a normal day in a normal week nod hello, now yodel out their greetings. “Good morning!” “Good morning!”
“Washing your hands?” I ask one neighbor.
Instacart order left on side porch yesterday. I donned one of my masks and washable gloves and got to work. Two big pots, one filled with soapy water, the other with hot water. Four rags.
I washed everything. The bananas. The boxes of soup stock. The cans of pineapple chunks. The quart of milk.
K thinks I go overboard (a bit of contention there), but I have a friend who put her bags on newspaper, washed everything, and then burned the newspapers and paper bags!
How does this substitution make sense?
My order came in plastic bags and I stowed them in the garage, untouchable for now. Would’ve thrown them out, but our town recently banned plastic bags and well, we have a dog.
Here Finn is, near where I want K to build a raised bed. It would use up a lot of lumber that clutters the garage (who am I to say anything with, um, all the fabric?) It’s the only full sun spot in our yard. Secondary benefit: a raised bed would avoid the toxins the roots of a nearby black walnut put out.
The descriptions of dying with coronavirus prompted this digital collage. It’s like drowning, they say.
I finished this yesterday. Two cloth notes:
1) The madras window came from the last garment I bought for my sister. She was wearing the dress when the fire fighters came to transport her to the nursing home where she died a couple of weeks later. There’s a whole story there, in other words, and that little rectangle speaks to it.
2) The hanger is a cloth-mask-tie that I decided wasn’t long enough. So there’s that reference.
I really enjoyed working on this yesterday — even the binding finish. Says something about how I feel about making masks!
Sunlight yellow like
lemon sherbet refreshing
my pinched, worried mind
I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a haiku comment before. Very cool. Thank you.
I so much needed that yellow this morning. Thank you!
My neighbor across the street described the process of opening her amazon food boxes and the washing of all the contents. Should I be washing my groceries that I choose at the store? I don’t. g and I were just noticing how quickly the day passes now- the first week or so- very slow- endless and now- wow it’s 3 pm and we haven’t had lunch. I had a package of romaine lettuce in the fridge and made myself a very large salad. Felt good to eat something that wasn’t soup.
I would really miss romaine if I couldn’t have it.
Love this cheery cloth with its memory window. J. Does the shopping, but we are not washing everything…it could be a good excuse for not paying bills, “but I was washing it to stay safe and well, then I couldn’t read what it said”! Perhaps we should take more precautions. I know I don’t want to eat veggies that have been sitting out after hearing about the idiot teens in Virginia who were caught pretending to sneeze on the lettuce! The store had to throw out some much needed food. Of course, who is to say that the folks in the plants bagging the lettuce aren’t unknowingly or even knowingly sick? You could make yourself nuts with this!
You could make yourself nuts. I am just adopting the precautionary steps with a matter of factness that homesteaders might have used to face various inconveniences. If you knew how cavalier I formerly was about hand washing, you would be astonished at the turn around. But, I talked to about three other people first. Adopted their practices.