Summer passes on winged feet, and always has. This summer is a bit of a zinger for various reasons. One being the ongoing pandemic that has many of us in stages of isolation. For the life of me sometimes I don’t even know what day it is. The calendar is not something I need to consult on a regular basis so the days just slide on by with little variation in activities. Clean the house, do the laundry, wash and dry the dishes, cook, mow the grass, go down to the farm, take care of/check up on the critters, work on a project or two, wash the windows, mow the grass again, go fishing, take a bike ride, go for a walk, get the mail, putter in the little garden and repeat, sometimes in no particular order. I am happy I manage to retrieve the mail each day since that way the bills get paid as they arrive. And yes, there’s a certain rhythm to the days but it’s not a rhythm that differentiates one day from another really. Television used to be a big help. Tuesdays were NCIS, Thursdays were The Big Bang Theory. Now new episodes of Big Bang ended last year so all we get are the inevitable reruns, and with no new weekly NCIS’s that marker too has disappeared. Much of what we watch is on each and every day and we don’t watch much so…. therein could lie a problem.

But it’s not much of a problem unless I forget an appointment, which I have done (Wednesday? I was sure that was set for Thursday. Oooops).

Even holidays got lost in the shuffle during this year of the unusual. Mother’s Day we took part in an impromptu parade for someone who had been hospitalized for several months with a driveby/horn honking spectacle. Our daughter was also there, so she handed me my Mother’s Day gifts from her and the kiddos through the truck window. Memorial Day found us at the cemetery placing floral arrangements on loved one’s gravesites, but there was no parade or other activities to attend so we just did the usual chores and tasks of the day when we were finished up there. I sent cards to all the graduates whether a party was imminent or not… We were baling hay on Father’s Day, but our daughter and her family did come out and help, thus she and her dad got to see each other. She got him some UV protective moisture wicking work shirts that come in handy for a guy who spends much of the day outdoors, regardless of temperature. (And some of the temps were mightily unpleasant.) Plus the grandkids gifted him with paintings of their own creation making that day special in a different than usual way. On the 4th of July, with no parade or activities to take in, it was again business as usual. We went fishing in the evening so for the first time in many years didn’t even attend the fireworks or light a sparkler in the yard. The rest of the summer will be the same. No Pioneer Days, no Flambeau Rama, no Price County Fair. Busy? Absolutely. Social? Not so much. I talk to people on the phone more than I have in ages, keep in touch with others via text or an occasional email. Chat with neighbors in the yard. Since the church I attend opened up again I’m more than happy to see my church family each week (and somehow can recall when Sunday comes). But in truth I don’t mind only visiting the grocery store once every three weeks, and the gas station as necessary. My secret is out. I’m a homebody. I have always been a homebody. I will always be a homebody. And it ain’t so bad my friends, it ain’t so bad at all.

No matter where we are or what we do the days still go by. I just try to make the best of them. Hope you do too.

(Copyright © 2020 APG Media)

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