1. Socially distanced meetings with friends. I got to see two people this week, in person, who I love dearly. I couldn’t hug them or even sit close, but it was SO much better than nothing. I’m not sure if it’s the smart thing, an entirely safe choice, but in light of the reality of how long we might have to keep our distance, I’ve been revisiting what I’m willing to risk and what for. I could realistically not see people I love or go to the pool or get a massage for six months, maybe even a full year, but since there is no way of knowing how long we’ll be living this carefully, I’ve reconsidered some things.

I’ve determined that, at least in this current moment, there are four conditions under which I’ll risk exposure: 1. Walking dogs, or rather for now, the dog. 2. Seeing people I love and trust to be careful, outside, socially distanced, preferably wearing masks. 3. Something necessary that can’t easily be accomplished any other way, like plants from the nursery. 4. Things that are lower risk which support my overall wellness, like getting an occasional massage or getting in the pool. This came in handy this week when deciding whether to risk aqua aerobics (which as far as I could tell only had two people signed up) or sign up for two lanes another time when we might be the only ones there. Eric and I determined if getting in the pool was the goal and I don’t care about seeing the people at aqua aerobics, that reserving two lanes was better, and we had the whole pool to ourselves, and the hot tub was open.

2. Our garden. Lilies, delphiniums, coneflowers, and daisies are blooming. We’ve got a baby cucumber, lots of green tomatoes, lettuce, and more kale than we can eat. So far the only life we’ve seen interested in the birdbath are the yellow jackets, but I’m okay with that as long as they leave our honey bees alone. We added a solar powered fountain to try and entice some birds. There are also more dragonflies, butterflies, grasshoppers, and moths than I’ve seen in a long time.

3. Practice. I’ve said it before and it continues to be true: this saves me, over and over.

4. Morning walks. We snuck in another walk close to the river this week. There really were too many mosquitoes and we won’t do it again until they are gone, but I love it there so much that it was a good thing even with the irritation.

Beaver! Image by Eric

Kitchen counter love note

5. My tiny family. Having Eric’s support and companionship keeps me alive. Laughing with him is probably my favorite thing in the world. There’s no one I’d rather be with when things get hard. Speaking of hard, Ringo has had a wonky belly this week. When you just lost a dog, it’s especially difficult when the only one left doesn’t feel good. He’s pretty happy though because his bland diet is rice and boiled hamburger. He’s on the mend and it wasn’t anything bad, so I’m grateful for that.

Bonus joy: Strawberry rhubarb yogurt with granola and berries, Rainer cherries, Dot’s pretzels, a big salad, the swallowtail butterflies in my backyard, our Golden Raintrees getting ready to bloom, texting with Chloe’ and Barb while watching Maria Bamford, hanging out with Mikalina talking about ALL the things, naps, yard time, texting with my mom and brother, reading in bed at night while Ringo and Eric sleep, stories about people who’ve had COVID-19 and recovered, my friend Liz reminding me of something I said and how that led to something I’d written and how that brought a clarity to something I’m working on and felt like a sign from the Universe, the people who load my car with groceries at the store and the ones who shopped for those groceries and the ones who stocked the shelf with those groceries and the drivers who delivered them and the people who cooked and cleaned and packaged the food and especially those who grew and harvested the food.