Saturday is a hodge-podge day

At least, that’s sure how my Saturday was today. The big deal was that it is Jacob’s fourteenth birthday? Really? He was just that cute kid who said all those funny things, and now he’s this lanky thing who walks like a jock, smiles some of the time, but is pretty solemn. Except he does take an interest in social issues and politics, and he’s determined to perfect his golf game. Plus he’s a sweet boy. I think we’ll keep him a while longer.

He’s outgrown birthday parties long ago and is today off for a day at a local lake with a buddy—and his parents. He’s been studying hard to pass the online test so that he can operate a motorized water vehicle—jet skis. The last thing he said was, “We’ll work it out.” Which meant he hadn’t passed the six-module test yet. Fingers crossed for passing it and for safety.

After checking email and all, I spent a good part of the morning making a huge pot of okroshka, a cold soup that probably originated in Russia. It’s a buttermilk base with a variety of diced vegetables—scallion, radish, cucumber, potato—plus diced eggs, a meat (I used a rotisserie chicken), fresh dill (Oh my, those herb scissors are a blessing), and a buttermilk/water/lemon juice mixture. It made so much it wouldn’t fit in the biggest pot I have, and I had to improvise. I’ve been sharing the wealth far and wide with my neighbors.

I also started organizing the July issue of my neighborhood newsletter, which for some reason this month was a particular challenge. I’ve put it aside now, to review in the morning. Think my head was getting fuzzy from overthinking some of it, and a good proofreading is in order. This month, we have a new column: Poohbah Junior. A group of neighborhood kids have written a column, established a website, and one of them is offering a service where she’ll make pillows out of discarded T-shirts and tea towels. Love that spirit in these kids.

Tonight good friend Jean came for happy hour on the patio. We had a good visit about everything from the sad state of our nation to food. When Jean and I are together, there seems to be a lot of laughter, and I am always grateful to her for that.

Tonight my mind is much on Tulsa. I am leaving the TV on mute, in hopes that if a special news report comes on, I”ll catch it. I honestly don’t know which I’m more afraid of—a riot or an epidemic. I guess the real answer is both. I am appalled that the squatting president would blindly go ahead with the rally plans in spite of loud and frequent warnings from health officials. In an effort to keep peace, the mayor of Tulsa ordered a curfew, but let himself be talked out of it by trump. The potential for tragedy is so great. I somehow see this as a climactic moment in the trump presidency—maybe the worst moment?

Meantime I feel so distant from it all, sitting here, safe, secure, and isolated in my little cottage. I hope each of you are equally safe and secure. God help America!