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| 6:59 |
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| 7:24 |
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| 7:46 |
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| 8:08 |
A brilliant sunrise fills our living room with light on a cold Sunday morning. I have had to move twice to avoid the blinding sun, no regrets. It's not only cold but windy so I won't be able to get out on the lake, alas. I was excited when I got up to see a clear sky but then I looked out the bedroom window and the flag was flying wildly.
We woke up to an overcast Saturday morning, matching our gray moods, a result of self quarantining. We had the usual Saturday morning, lots of just sitting around, listening to NPR, writing the blog and getting ready for me to take the trash to the Transfer Station. To my amusement, as I drove into the Transfer Station, I was greeted by a huge sign reading: Please Stay Six Feet Apart. Even my trash guys are being careful. Once that was done, the day was open, with nothing we had to do.
We thought about making a soup, never got around to it. Thought about a good dinner but both of us wanted hot dogs, yep, hot dogs for some reason they sounded good to us. So we basically wasted a good day for the most part although Evie was busy writing and designing a few Felt cards. I talked with my sister, Ellen, and her family is doing well. We usually share ideas on books and series to watch on TV so I came away with some good ideas.
We were at a bit of a loss as what to make for lunch until Evie had the great idea of tuna melt sandwiches, tuna, cheese and tomatoes put under the broiler. So we shared a couple of sandwiches and I watched another episode of my drug cartel show on Prime Video although I am not taken with it. Sometime after 12:00, Our Propagandist in Chief began his rally once again, so I tuned out and read, then took a great nap until awaken by my good friend, Ron, wondering how we were doing. It took me a while to figure out what was going on, who I was talking to because I was in such a sound sleep and I was talking on my Apple watch, not my phone.
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| 4:40 |
It started to clear up in the afternoon, so after I practiced yoga for forty minutes, we decided to get outside and go for a walk around the Chautauqua Institution. It was windy and cold when walking west, towards the warming sun, but fine on the east/west side streets. We walked for only a half-hour before we had enough of the wind and cold and drove home.
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| Chautauqua Institution's Brick Walk |
Because it was Saturday night, we were looking forward to a Manhattan night, with good swiss cheese and crackers. We sat around, listening to the New York Times Top Twenty Five Songs Now, some good, some we could do without. It was nice and relaxing, as we watched another day of isolation wane. Around 7:00, Evie grilled the Sahlen hotdogs, microwaved the Bob Evans Mac N Cheese and I got out the mustard and ketchup and we had a tasty if unhealthy dinner. Since there's not much on TV on Saturday nights, we went straight to Season Four of The Americans, watched a couple of episodes until we were tired and went up to bed.
A Fun Poem From The Writer's Almanac For All Dog Lovers:
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Dharma
by Billy Collins
The way the dog trots out the front door
every morning
without a hat or an umbrella,
without any money
or the keys to her doghouse
never fails to fill the saucer of my heart
with milky admiration.
Who provides a finer example
of a life without encumbrance—
Thoreau in his curtainless hut
with a single plate, a single spoon?
Gandhi with his staff and his holy diapers?
Off she goes into the material world
with nothing but her brown coat
and her modest blue collar,
following only her wet nose,
the twin portals of her steady breathing,
followed only by the plume of her tail.
If only she did not shove the cat aside
every morning
and eat all his food
what a model of self-containment she would be,
what a paragon of earthly detachment.
If only she were not so eager
for a rub behind the ears,
so acrobatic in her welcomes,
if only I were not her god.
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