The days run one into the other

S

Sophie protecting her food

For her, eating is a competitive sport, and one of the 

Cavaliers always tries to share her dinner

Sophie is having none of that

Jordan lost her driver’s license and a credit card today, and in the process of searching for it we all tried to reconstruct what had happened yesterday. She knew she had them when she ran errands in the early afternoon, but after that the day was a blur. In the process of trying to remember yesterday, we realized how much the days now run not each other with a sameness. What did we do yesterday that made it stand out from the day before—or from today? We couldn’t solve it. A great commentary on the way we are living our lives in this pandemic.

Today stood out because it was Palm Sunday, and we went to church online, whereas we would normally be dressed in our fines, sitting in the pews to watch the church children and youth parade into the sanctuary waving palms. The church had called for pictures of us waving our palms, and that was among the many things on my to-do list that didn’t get done. But it was fun to see pictures both contemporary and from previous Palm Sundays—we spotted Jacob in one, apparently from the year he was baptized.

The rest of the day was, as I said before, like any other day. I wrote the blog I should have written last night—I really think keeping to my ideal schedule of a blog every night helps keep me alert and in some kind of discipline. I hope it doesn’t bore you.

I finished the mystery I was reading and began to explore what to read next. But I also went back to the last notes I had made for my Kelly O’Connell Mysteries and found an idea I thought might work. At first, I thought of checking in on Kelly and Mike to see how they were handling the pandemic, but all advice on the writerly lists I read is against pandemic novels now. No one wants to read about them when that is our reality. I may have found myself a new project, after floundering for over three weeks with a possible non-fiction project and a compilation of blogs. A new mystery might give me just the thing I need, though I’m hesitant to say that out loud.

We had sausages, northern-style beans, and a lemon potato salad for supper. Making the potato salad took a bit of my time. It calls for making the dressing and boiling the potatoes and peeling immediately so you can pour the dressing over warm potatoes—always hurts my thumb that takes the peel off, but I know that warm potatoes absorb dressing much better. When I was young the hospital where my dad worked had an older Italian cook. She taught my mom to peel and dress warm potatoes with a bit of vinaigrette, even  if you were making mayonnaise/mustard potato salad. Said it gave them more flavor and over the years I have always followed her advice. But I dislike peeling hot potatoes.

Jordan in my TCU mask

Before supper tonight Jordan came out and made me a mask out of a TCU bandana—then she promptly modeled it. Good thing we are related and are not practicing social distancing within the family. A good neighbor also gave us four masks, and I am indebted. We are all set—if I ever get to leave the cottage again.

Be safe, my friends. This too shall passl

Palm Sunday, spring plants, and Sunday dinner—what a day!

            Sunday morning found me in Palm Sunday services with Christian and Jacob. It was a joyful, happy service with more palms than I’ve ever seen, and people waving them everywhere. The little children singing a hymn were adorable, some with their palms hanging limply down as though the child had forgotten why he or she was holding it. There was an air of excitement and anticipation in the church—and a lot more people than usual. And why not? Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem was a happy event, even though he predicted the dark events of the week ahead.

fountain grass

ground cover

kid of hard to tell

but it's so green and healthy

geranium

            Today wasn’t quite as lovely as yesterday. The sun hid for much of the day, but it was still warm, and by late afternoon a nice breeze blew. Neighbors joined us to sit on the patio for a while, a small celebration of Jay’s birthday tomorrow—of course, he’ll be twenty-nine again. By sunset, clouds to the west seemed to promise storms, though the forecast is vague. My ground cover is amazing, and rain will make it burst forth even more. The plants Jordan put in pots seem fine, and the basil seeds are just beginning to send up tiny sprouts. I’m thankful that Jordan has taken an interest in my vegetable garden and is following Jay’s directions explicitly, so I don’t have to nag about watering.

Somehow, I associate lamb with Holy Week meals. It’s traditional, of course, both for Holy Week and Passover, but I’m not sure we had lamb at Easter when I was a child—the origin of so many of my taste preferences. I think we always had ham and scalloped potatoes. But tonight, I experimented. Made Shepherd’s Pie but used ground lamb instead of beef. Some recipes call for cubed meat, but I’ve always liked to make it with ground meat. Despite Christian’s aversion to peas and cooked carrots, I just dumped in a bag of frozen mixed vegetables, and he dealt with it bravely. In fact, he complimented me several times on the meal, but said he wouldn’t have known it was lamb if he himself hadn’t picked up the lamb at Central Market. I can tell the difference instantly, which led him to say my palate is used to more tastes than his. At any rate, it was a successful dish, with a bit of grated cheese in the mashed potato topping. Another recipe for my growing cookbook.

Tomorrow, back to serious work. Got to start editing the first draft of my==sob!—still untitled novel.

And don’t forget, folks, Murder at the Bus Depot will be available April 6 on Amazon as both ebook and print. Shortly thereafter it will show up on B&N, Kobo, and several other digital platforms. Enough of this lollygagging around. I’ve got to act like a working author.