Another sunny day

happy hour, 

Jacob's new activity center

Kind of hard to see the basketball hoop, but it's there

That’s the weather, not my disposition. Sunny and gorgeous all day, even venturing toward hot. I had the a/c on in the afternoon, and it was comfortable. Discovered last night the a/c in the bedroom is not working. I called today, and the repairman I’ve known for twenty years called back. Missed him so will call tomorrow, but I hope it’s something he can talk me through over the phone. Otherwise, it will have to wait. Much as I like and trust him, I am not ready to have a repairman in the house. Yesterday, we should have had Zenaida, who we are all crazy about, but as Jordan says, she’s been cleaning other houses and who knows what she’s been exposed to. I expect to pay her though for days missed.

The big news here today is that Jordan created an activities space in the driveway—moved the cars out and pulled Jacob’s basketball hoop and tetherball into the space left. Much consternation about weighting the basketball hoop down so it would be stable, but a trip to the hardware for sandbags was averted by using various pots and a couple of concrete blocks we had. Jacob has been out there several times today—I hear the “Thump, thump, thump,” and it makes me happy because I know he’s moving around and keeping busy. He’s strictly limited in activities away from the house and must observe the six-foot guideline, which most of his buddies are ignoring.

We had happy hour tonight on the patio, with our neighbor who is quarantined in his guest house just opposite the patio. He’s been traveling, and I guess he has to wait out fifteen days since his arrival back home. Nice to visit with Jay again, though it’s sometimes hard for me to hear him.

Otherwise, days are falling into a pattern. I remember years ago I knew a doctor’s wife who bred Cairn terriers—we had a couple of her dogs—and had a busy life. So I was astounded one day when she announced she was covering the switchboard at her husband’s hospital in a small town from three to eleven. When I asked why, she said, “I just find the more you have to do, the more you get done.”  I am now finding the reverse of that—with no deadlines and not much pressing me, I get very little done. I have lots of reading to do—some for pleasure, some for research—but every day I manage to fritter away the day without much reading.

Part of it is I am glued to news—on the TV and the computer both—keeping up with both politics and the pandemic. It becomes like an addiction. I am dismayed that the local news interrupts the daily White House press briefings—not because I want to hear trump but because I want to hear Fauci and even Pence. These days Dr. Fauci and Governor Cuomo are my heroes (I love the latter’s line, “My mother is not expendable, and neither is your mother.”) I also have increasing respect for Secretary Mnuchin because it sounds as if he really tried hard to reach a workable, negotiated settlement in Congress. Pooh on the Republicans who are now quibbling over minor details.

We have relatives in New York—the Bronx to be specific, though one daughter lives in Manhattan—and I am worried about them. Emailed with them today, and they are well, pretty much quarantined. But the Manhattan daughter, who has had to rethink her wedding plans, is an R.N. and her orthopedic unit has been converted to care for COVID-19 patients. That worries me a lot. My nephew, a physical therapist in Baltimore, has been cut back to half time with a corresponding cut in pay—and they have three young children. Hard times all around, and I am hiding away here in my cottage, grateful for my many blessings and especially for my Jordan.

Stay safe and well, my friends.