Day Twenty-Four

Friday, April 10, 2020

My brief research shows that America’s coronavirus lockdown started March 17, when we began officially to practice social distancing and self-isolating. So, today dawns as #25 in an unprecedented stretch of national anxiety. We follow orders to avoid contagion, while worrying about diminishing finances, confused living arrangements, postponed work priorities, and whatever may be ahead. Meanwhile, this period reveals uber-serious issues, like the neglects in health care for African American Communities, how politicians almost-easily may suppress voters, and oh, the incredible power of a bully stage. For example, where’s our other presidential contender? Or maybe: Is Governor Como potentially a shoo-in for nominee as President (assuming conventions are possible) at convention time?

I prep for every day’s worries by reading briefs, articles, and blogs, some are pessimistic and others provide solace and hope. What’s clear is that while needing others individuals must know how to fuel their own minds and bodies. Lately, I’ve began thinking about beefing-up my routines.

Sure, it’s easy to be out among my trees with a chainsaw for lots of days going forward, but physical exercise alone isn’t enough. Yesterday, I made up my mind to find a free e-book and spent hours sitting and playing online with the public library. After figuring out how, I downloaded a couple of books and went outside.

My book turned out to be an excellent choice. I listened while planting 100 iris bulbs, a bigger chore than I imagined, and “reading” countered the repetitiveness of hole-digging. (BTW, I discovered that gum-chewing which works ear muscles causes ear-buds to fall out.) Once all the bulbs were covered and watered, I gathered chainsaws and headed for trees.

I was sawing a huge limb and focused on the direction it might fall when a vehicle pulled up and parked. When the limb had fallen I looked over and there were my friends, Virginia and Joe. (I’ve written about Virginia, who suffered a massive stroke and had been near death in hospital. She went home to LaPine in an ambulance with me riding along.) Her son, Joe, is a miracle worker. He’s helped Virginia recover and get back onto her feet. Yesterday, after her encouraging medical visit, they stopped to say hello. She looks more like her old self, we social-distanced while catching up.

After they left, I put on-hold the tree-trimming, left branches and limbs laying around, and went to practice getting on and off a horse, hopefully without feeling joint pains. My dependable soulmate, Sunni, waited patiently through cleaning, combing, and saddling. She again was patient as I prepared to mount from a raised platform. I climbed aboard–and without pain! Sunni went walking over my rocky property, carried me under tree limbs high enough now to accommodate us. We traveled down the street for a quarter mile. Sunni seemed never to have seen that street, the very one on which she frequently pulls a cart or walks beside me to a neighbor’s pasture. Is it that a saddle and rider alters a horse’s perspective? Nonetheless, she was great and my ride wonderful. I’m back in the saddle.

As if that wasn’t enough fun, later while I was inside watching televised coronavirus news, my friend Grant texted. He was participating in a Zoom knitting group session and could loop me in. That was my first experience with Zoom and it was terrific. Friends in their homes, knitting, talking, and visible. One participant was in Michigan! It was fun being again among knitters. I’ll ask Fancywork Yarn across cyberspace for help in choosing a new project and providing safely the pattern and yarn.

What a fine day was #24.

Dear Friends: I’d love to know how you’re filling these days, how about starting to blog? Diana