This post may or may not be short owing to technical difficulties… For some reason, my laptop wants to only import half my photos. Perhaps less IS more when it comes to my “pocket camera.”
(It appears my uploads failed, so until I have a second to call upon my household technology guru, The Haus Meister, who has retired early so as to conduct a way early am business call in this era of “Business At Home During Coronavirus…”, this is text only. Apologies.)
Reaching out to my readers, are you okay out there? Doing well, I hope? Be assured of our prayers as we, and the whole world, for once, altogether, maneuvers through the coronavirus.
But perhaps you’re sick of hearing about Covid-19? I completely understand. Miss M had a lot of tears today at the sheer reality that her First Holy Communion was about to be rescheduled to some vague time three months from now. Looking at the stores, and our larder, I seriously wish I had that miniature cow I’ve always joked about acquiring (If you have one in milk, I’m interested, just comment! My kids could live off dairy! hahaha). And we live in a world where toilet paper suddenly became the hot item on the shelves.
(C’mon, we laugh so that we may not cry!)
However, we now live in a world where we actually have to think about someone else. On January 1, I blithely walked into my church for the 12:00 midnight Mass. I hadn’t experienced ringing in the New Year in this way since high school, and was so looking forward to starting out 2020 with Jesus first. I sat a bit away from everyone, as one of the reasons I attended this Mass solo was because some of the kids had cold symptoms. Myself, I had a few unalarming symptoms that night but I resolved to keep away from the thirteen other people besides me attending Mass. Good thing; that wasn’t a cold we had, no, it turned out to be ‘Flu B. And I regretted in retrospect putting anyone in potential danger from that action of mine, but hindsight is 20/20, as they say. It’s just that you never know, you never think that your mild sniffle could spell danger to someone else.
Until Covid-19 turned our world upside down.
Who’d have thought, you know? I grew up during the Cold War. Wasn’t it going to be a nuclear incident that set the world on edge? Instead, it’s a germ. It’s a virus. It was a small something rather beyond the control of almighty mankind.
Ack! No! Wait! “This isn’t another Covid-19 email!” ( Don’t you love when you get those? I’ve had three this week alone!)
On the farm:
I want to fry the rooster. This may or may not be because Haus Meister and I have given up meat for Lent (including Sundays), but the rooster is… ahem… cough… tearing up my hens. My hens give eggs. He is just loud. They pay rent, and he doesn’t… So… (cliffhanger)
In my last post, I wrote about our cat rescue. Oscar, ala “Puff-Puff,” was reunited with his owners. Miss M asked me for a kitten every day for a fortnight after. Then, one evening, after I had left food for Tabitha as usual, I saw a totally NEW cat (they must have a feline signal system set up, I’m sure). As I rushed out to check about the newcomer (who had faded into the night), I was shocked to find both Tabitha resting in my garlic patch in one of the two VegTrugs I have set up on my back deck… but behind her, still sporting the collar I had bought for him, was Oscar/Puff-Puff, or “The Puffscar.” Ever since that day, he’s been here. The owner had my phone number from the vet, with my permission, and two days later she called and said she’d give me his paperwork if I wanted, as he wasn’t happy the two weeks she kept him inside. Apparently he made a beeline for our place as soon as he was let out. I agreed to meet with her, but then Covid-19 hit, and as this isn’t supposed to be a Covid-19 email, just know that we are keeping the Puffscar happy and well-fed, and Miss M has stopped asking me for a kitten because he likes sleeping on her bed, and she had missed him a lot.
Bee-line reminded me… If there’s a random swarm of honeybees in your area and you are in the Piedmont of Virginia, also comment here because they might be ours! Yep, we had a swarm, and I had the interesting experience of trying to track a vortex of honeybees through the woods, until I just couldn’t. Fortunately, the other half of last years hive seems to be going strong. Two new nucs may arrive in May, social distancing procedures being followed, of course….
On the needles… I wish I could say I was farther on my mom’s sweater than I am, but I am farther. I just spent the last week rereading the news after the kids’ bedtime, and as it doesn’t update instantly, is an unproductive exercise. Still, I do a bit a row at a time and that is great.
Last Thoughts. Well, may we always remember how we looked out for each other more at such a time as this. May the ache in our hearts lead to a greater faithfulness when our churches can offer Masses/services again. May we love our homes all the more for the extra time we have spent in them. And may we love each other more, for in the end…
we are all in the same boat.
(yes, this has turned out to be another Covid-19 email)