The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 52

Going Off on a Tangent

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

It's starting to get a bit Pinteresty up in here. The daughters just went outside to pick dandelions by the side of the road, because apparently dandelion honey is a thing they must make at 9 p.m. on a random Wednesday.

Inside the house, a double batch of bread is proofing on the stove. (Just to be clear, Caren, I haven't purchased store-bought bread in a decade, so don't even with me.)

There's a bird feeder made out of a water jug and tree bark sitting on the back table; the table next to me is littered with pins made out of safety pins, packing tape, drawings, and copious amounts of hot glue. [Note to self: add hot glue sticks, safety pins, and packing tape to next Meijer shopping list.]

The basil and peas haven't sprouted yet, and the peat pods are suspiciously vacant, but the kale and asparagus is poking through the compost-and-cardboard lasagna that I layered in the garden.

Michael restored a free-by-the-side-of-the-road grill and cooked hotdogs on it yesterday.

This weekend, I have big plans to build a kayak and canoe storage rack out of PVC.

I am incredibly aware of how privileged we are. We are in good health and financially stable; we can go to the hardware store to buy supplies, to Van Attas for seeds, to the grocery store for flour, to the neighbors for yeast. I restocked the wine and popsicle supply today from Aldi, and the fridge is full of produce.

Our biggest complaints are that we are in each other's spaces too often, that the wifi isn't as strong as we'd like. I'm sick of cooking and they're sick of eating it. We're all tired of not knowing what day it is; we miss our friends and our sports and our restaurants.

But when I take a step back and look at the big picture, it's easy to see that --even though we have lost so much during this strange, uncomfortable time-- we have also gained the time and space to make dandelion honey, to restore a grill, to plant the garden, to make a birdfeeder, and to plan the next project.

It's time for the second proof on the bread. The girls are pulling petals off of dandelions. I'll make Rice Krispie treats for breakfast when the bread is in the oven.

I wonder --when this is all over-- if our lives will be changed, a slight tangent from the trajectory we had been on. I wonder if we will be any different. I wonder if any of this will stick.