And I was grateful in between morning walk and salad that the second vaccination went smoothly and efficiently, there and back again, and grateful, by the way, for the science and the scientists that prevailed in record time concocting a vaccine for this dreadful virus that continues unchecked in a global pandemic. Not so grateful for the county official and a few other volunteers at the vaccination event who wore their masks below their noses, as casually oblivious to the science as the maskless customers at the hardware store the other day. I’m grateful that I’m feeling fine so far, just a little arm twinge and a little brain fog; fine enough to make pizza for dinner and grateful for that too! I’m grateful for every little thing in this good day.
What an amazing day! So many wonderful things happened. First I woke up, alive and well-rested, content with a relaxed morning routine. Relaxation is a skill I’m learning to cultivate. It starts with accepting things as they are; not just people, but everything. We get only suffering from seeking control over external conditions. (This insight brought to you by a recovering control freak!) And Stellar was alive, too! O frabjous day! On our first morning walk, we greeted Split-Ear Doe and her twins, almost yearlings now.
I shudder to think that I used to drive somewhere every two or three days. It was a big deal to get four days in a row that I didn’t have to leave home. What was that about? I don’t miss it at all. I can certainly limit my town trips going forward after vaccine to once or twice a month, even if I start buying my own groceries. In this quiet covid year I’ve learned to better budget my time, my attention. I can’t imagine returning to that fast-paced rat race! I’m so grateful that I work from home. I’m grateful I get to walk the driveway these days far more often than I’m obliged to drive it.
As we approached the top I could see some activity. Jake the puppy was watching from his field. There was a truck, a ladder, a girl walking from another driveway in a blue jacket. It was at last time for the great switcheroo. After months of patient neighborhood diplomacy, after 45 failed to return to power January 6, January 20, and March 4, enough was enough. We proud patriots, daughters of the American Revolution, reclaimed the flagpole at last. The offensive flag of the false narrative was removed, and Old Glory was returned to her post.
It wasn’t even noon! We came back home and sat outside in the garden for awhile, attentive to the melodic song of arriving house finches, alert for the buzz of the first bee, appreciating the play of light on shiny apricot limbs and melting snow, and so on, present to the magic of each moment. It was the warmest day of the year so far, and I opened the doors for hours ~ delightful! There was ample food to choose from for lunch ~ extravagant! Technology allowed cousins in seven different states to visit for an hour on one screen ~ amazing!
Then I got to play in the kitchen. At last the goldfish cracker cutter had arrived. The poison fish came to life. Amy sent a recipe for ‘poison fish’ months ago, which starts with a box of Pepperidge Farm goldfish, and one thing led to another. This was my third batch of homemade ‘goldfish crackers,’ but the first actually shaped like fish. The first batch I simply cut into diamonds with a knife, the second I used a small round cutter. Neither batch was quite the right texture, and I overcooked both through inattention. But today’s batch was perfection. I’m grateful for practice, in so many ways.