And Then Time Stopped

In my head it's still late March. Ed turned 60 on March 1st, Katie is 18 as of March 4th. Both significant birthdays, and we Did celebrate them. Covid was looming then, but not yet fully the Thing. And then, a week or so later, it was all coronavirus all the time. No more plays. No more tutoring. No more politicking. No more leisurely browsing items in stores. Home all the time, or in the yard or walking -- always on the alert against the too-close encounter -- at the park.

And March goes on.*

But, it turns out, that's just in my head. Turns out it's nearly June! Good grief. Katie has been assigned a dorm and chosen a meal plan. Somewhere, we are told, a guidance counselor is looking over the list she submitted of classes taken and interests, and is planning her first semester's schedule. Online orientation is sometime in June, another "real" one in August -- tentatively.

Because, of course, everything is tentative. Whether she will go off to college. Whether she'll be able to get a summer job to help pay for college. Whether... well, just about everything.

I'd like to finish this first-in-a-long-time post on a cheerful, life-affirming note. Something about how I've been planting things in the garden, digging weeds and so on, and how it reminds me of the steadiness of the turning seasons, the determination of things to live and grow, etc. And... yeah. Sort of. Only the weather has been completely insane. Freezing weather in mid-May. I walked today in my heavy winter coat. The deer have been hiding (too many people walking about, with the lockdown?) and I've gotten slack about spraying Liquid Fence on my plants (Ed hates Liquid Fence) but then I lie in bed imagining that I can hear deer daintily stepping through my roses, devouring the blooms and new growth.

But today, excessively cold as it is, it's raining, and everything is very green outside. This weekend is supposed to be nice, and on the news this morning I heard that Covid cases are in decline in much of the country. And my dad and Ann made it back safely up to Maine, and my kids and Ed and I are all well enough and rattling around the house pretty agreeably together.

Maybe we'll do okay.

*I would like you to notice that I resisted writing "And March marches on." Well, at least in the body of the blog I did.

And some photos...

Church services are online, now, so Finny can attend. And attend he does!

We had a couple lovely warm days.

Ed, rocking his new hat!

And roses...

Oh, and Finn helping with the bamboo. Our neighbor's back yard is a dense bamboo jungle, and it launches endless invasions.

Dad and Ann are being very careful, as they should, but they did stop by once. Briefly. We kept our distance, no hugs, but at least we saw them.

I walk through a pasture on my way to the park, and sometimes I get to pat a horse.

The arch is actually more flowery now, but this gives you an idea. I'm pleased with it!