Such a
joy to have both my daughters in my cottage this morning. The girls made an
early run to the Dollar General—no Lysol, but they scored Clorox wipes. Then we
“went” to the early service of church. The sermon was “What About My Family,”
and a theme was families aren’t perfect; they are the source of our greatest joy
and too often our greatest pain. I reflected on how fortunate my family is—lots
of the joy and very little of the pain.
Afterward
settled down, each occupied with our own things—me checking Facebook, Megan
choosing things like towel racks and the like for her new house (they hope to
move in at the end of the month). Every once in a while, the conversation
drifted to food and recipes, and Jordan and I even laid out a dinner plan for
the week. Tomorrow I’ll try first thing in the morning to get an early slot for
pickup at Central Market.
We had
our Mother’s Day celebration last night. Kudos to Christian Burton for a
marvelous meal. He grilled steak and lobster, diced and seasoned potatoes to
roast. Jordan made a big salad, and Megan made an herb sauce that we like but
that is labor intensive. She has more patience than I for all that mincing.
Jordan set a fine table with chargers and her best china, goblets, candles. We
dined in style and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Good dinner table conversation
afterward until I announced I had to nap—again.
Before
dinner, our good friends the Greens came for a distanced happy hour on the
patio. With the world opening up and the new case count still going up, it’s
almost harder to tell what to do about distance visits. We have decided that
people that have not been to restaurants, salons, and other gatherings are
welcome for outside, distanced visiting. We’re not let letting people into the
house or the cottage yet. I am comfortable with taking it slow, though I sure
would like a haircut. I am befuddled by those who are rushing out to
restaurants and going about life as normal or what they wish was normal.
Now
Megan and Ford have left for Austin, the Burtons are headed to Coppell to see Christian’s
parents, and I shall take a nap and then fix myself one of my favorite summer
meals—a cold salmon platter.
Oh
yes, our minor catastrophe: I get around my cottage, cooking and going about my
daily business, seated on my rollator which clearly says, “Do not sit while in
motion.” But if I adhered to that I could hardly care for myself—cooking,
carrying things, particularly food and drink, from one room to another. But because
I stress the rollator in ways not meant to be, I’ve had bad luck with seats
that break. After I bought too many replacement seats, Lewis Bundock, who has
done everything large and small for my house for twenty-five years, built me a
thick, sturdier seat. Yesterday for the second time, it nearly threw me—one time
the screws worked loose, and yesterday one of the plastic grips holding it split.
Both times I was quick enough that I didn’t fall off the chair, but it was a
true hazard—and scared my daughters more than me. They did a temporary fix, and
we have ordered a new chair. I am also trying to make it a point to walk
whenever possible and scoot as little as possible.
Stay
safe and well, everyone.
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