![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfgGpPxsY5MhrHCv60HTN_-jbFQNwa9TEBzmbHU_-Q22XcE9yo0f4q7L-EbUFX5fEsjcgQvLNg0yfnqWp07nD4gkY0asb5bQ65WiPx7Mtg-1pGXBPUx2OpuXzL-5fQoTe-bnfAidkLUSVL/s200/IMG_3666.JPG) |
Cool homemade mask--a
surprise gift in the mail
from a wonderful friend. |
Yup. It's been awhile. Five weeks according to my count of staying in, staying close to home, not planning to wander far afield. The last couple of weeks have been mostly rough--still feeling angry at the douchebags without masks, worried about a future that increasingly feels more uncertain than the previous, putting feet forward and engaging with my day even when I would prefer not to.
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Dowan likes to relax
while I exercise. |
It's been a week of joining the home delivery movement, having some things brought to us rather than venturing to where people breathe and touch things. We found a restaurant foodservice delivery service (
Altamira Doorstep) that is now doing retail, and they delivered as promised; we no longer worry about finding all purpose flour, whole wheat flour, tamari, and some other random things we weren't finding. Rather than stressing over toilet paper, Nan orchestrated our order of a case from a local Denver company
Western Paper Distributors, and has been distributing it to our neighbors. And then, due to a weekly happy hour with a friend, my liquor supply, which isn't very large, has dwindled, so I easily ordered online from
Argonaut, including my summerly gin purchase. So, yeah, I'm good to go.
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I made my first ever cherry pie
from scratch. Still firsts to be had. |
And now, it seems, that as long as I adjust my head to procuring things differently, it is not such a narrative of loss, but more one of change. My local farmer's market, my steady date most every Sunday morning May-October, is moving to an online ordering system from farmer's market vendors, with a neighborhood alley pick-up Sunday afternoon. Our
tomato guy, where we wandered amidst small greenhouses last summer to choose, is now offering online ordering and pickup in May. Options exist. I just have to shift my expectations a bit.
It's a mix, fuzzy lines of emotions. I can throw silent tantrums about how I don't want this change, how I want to have a carefree summer, how I am bitter every time I get a cancel notice for some future event. This summer won't be like summers past. This fall won't be like past ones. This year won't be like the past. And next year. I cannot imagine that far for now.
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