Seasonal blossoms are springing up, the many daffodil varieties planted years ago, like an annual explosion of color in our woods.
However, even as the calendar officially announced the start of spring, winter was loathe to let go. That Sunday afternoon, the first of our stay-at-home imposed isolation, we tromped through the snow.
Where are all the birds? They must be social distancing as well.
Not all work has ceased. The tree trimmer/removal crew finally made it to our road.
Nor did churches stop worshiping. Now we gather virtually. And, thanks to live streaming, it is now possible to "attend" more than one service throughout the day or week.
A young cousin's wedding this week was also live streamed, reduced to only a dozen attendees.
My writers' group had our first Zoom meeting and hope to keep the momentum going.
Michael is back into riding his bicycle, when the weather is good. One beautiful afternoon, he biked to the shop in Matthews. Not till he got there did he realize he had forgotten his helmet. He called and I rescued him.
These two mentors coincided at the shop that afternoon to pick up items they needed. You can't keep these guys away from robotics. Their minds are still working on problems, solutions and improvements, looking forward to the possibility of an off-season competition in the summer.
No more Monday night meals for a while. Last time we were at Stephan and Karen's was for a game night and birthday celebration, Stephan's 49th. It was a fun crowd, some we hadn't seen in a long time.
What else do we do during quarantine? Our schedules haven't changed that much. We take turns cooking and baking. Basically, we each work at our own tasks during the day and watch something at night, only more than before.
For me these weeks have been focused on processing Mother's death and dealing with what she left behind.
For days I sorted through things, sent photos to family and packaged items they requested or I had set aside for each person or family. My greatest joy was to distribute Mother's paintings.
This is a favorite photo that reminds me of the times Mother and I spent reading the old letters together.
Now it's time for me to seriously get back to writing the stories of my early childhood based on that early correspondence.
What's been happening in your neck of the woods?
