days to friends and family using a Thesaurus and wow them!
Here is an account of my typical day "in isolation":
Got up and made coffee. Prepared breakfast. Looked at the computer for thirty
minutes. Fed the birds and the rabbit, perused the garden and did a few house
chores. Checked on my seedlings, worked on my puzzle and made lunch. Had
my daily afternoon nap. Went for a bike ride, raked some pine needles, did some
planting research, worked on the puzzle. Made dinner, watched TV, read my book
and crashed out.
I plummeted away from the solace of my bed, noticing a diminutive breeze ruffling
the curtains. I tiptoed over a dazzling streak of sunlight, delighted at the promise of
a sunny day. During my morning ablution I secretly celebrated the fact that I was
not a hoarder but did have enough cushiony 2-ply in the cupboard to last for a
couple of weeks.
The extraordinary dreams from last night's serene sleep followed me into the kitchen
where I filled the coffeemaker with fresh, cool water and insured that the filter held
expressly the precise amount of bold, vibrant, freshly ground beans. I hung out the
bird feeders that I store inside overnight to keep away the voracious, stealthy paws of
the prowling raccoons. Soon the melodious twittering and boisterous squawking began
as a riotous procession of birds in variegated disguise and umpteen opportunistic
squirrels ventured into the yard. I threw a crisp, vivid orange carrot to Brian "our"
Cottontail who visits twice a day, entertaining us with his enchanting antics.
While sipping my delightful coffee, I prepared our morning fruit bowls choosing the
most plump and richly coloured fruit and mindfully arranging them. I gently stirred
a pan of authentic, Scottish oatmeal with the well worn wooden spurtle. The porridge
bubbled with a restrained rhythm as the image of a thatched roof hut in the Highlands
emerged. We consumed our early sustenance while scrutinizing our computers for the
shocking statistics of the day, heartbreaking stories from around the world plus comics
and hopeful messages for these uncertain times and the COVID-19 Virus.
Choosing only essential house chores, I sterilized the kitchen counters until they were
pure and untainted. The sink was vigorously scrubbed of germs in its entirety until it
gleamed with a glossy luster. I stacked the magically, cleansed plates, bowls and
glistening glasses from the dishwasher and retreated to my discombobulated studio.
(Those who have read my recent blogs are aware that we are under a kitchen renovation
and my studio has become a makeshift storage area for the contents of the former
kitchen cupboards as well as tools, books, mail all stacked in a precarious balance
under and atop each and every surface.)
Last week I managed to clear off a couple of flat spots for my peat pots and larger seed
starters. I find the nurturing of Spring seedlings an amusing and gratifying pastime.
Checking them daily, watching them swell, elongate and extend towards the sun is such
an affable Spring venture. I usually cannot resist the vigorous pull to spend some
time scrutinizing the one thousand unique pieces of my current jigsaw puzzle. The
myriad of shapes, textures, colours and patterns pique my curiosity and challenge my
utmost concentration. The emotions of bliss and elation combined with extraordinary
frustration take me to the brink of my sanity.
As I reheated some robust, homemade baked beans for lunch, the air was permeated with
the heady odours of blackstrap molasses and March-Maple syrup. Together with
summer-scented cucumber, crisp, crimson apples and crusty sourdough, we tucked into
lunch. Afterwards, I sank into the silent comfort of bed for my daily twenty minute
meditation, followed by a luxurious, restorative catnap.
Since the raw, biting cold temperatures have departed, it was time to get back out on the
bikes. Chris made the tires road worthy and off we went with a few underused muscles
singing at a higher pitch than usual. The tranquil, smooth roads took us past willows,
brilliant and golden; matted sheep, invigorated with their release from winter's dreary
barn; robins resting and reacquainting themselves after their interminable migration;
pale pails collecting heavenly sap from the Sugar Maples; farm fields greening;
Fiddleheads uncoiling; Woolly Bear Caterpillars in their striped fur coats; little lemon
Coltsfoot flowers; amethyst-Crocus poking though decaying leaves; sparkling clumps
of Snowdrops and buds swelling at the tender tips of branches; all under radiant,
cerulean skies.
It was time for my daily raking session. As I methodically dragged the rake across the
needles, a bouquet of viscous pine and perishing leaves met my nose. My shoulders
strained with a mix of disquiet and gratification as I heaped everything into the
struggling wheelbarrow. I noticed the progress of Spring bulbs and perennials, defiantly
heading for the sky.
Stepping inside, I brewed a pot of tea, blessed by the Earl of Grey and researched a few
shrubs and flowers for the inspired visions I had while raking. I frittered some time on
the puzzle presenting myself with an ultimatum to fit a prescribed number of pieces
before I could leave the room.
Chris and I worked in harmony cooking some maple salmon, roasted rosemary potatoes
and crunchy, verdant salad. We relished a couple of our favourite British TV dramas.
At the close of another day of social-distancing we retired to our tranquil bedroom,
settled in with our alluring books and ventured enthusiastically into dreamland. Ghostly
hoots from the Great Horned Owl and haunting Coyote yelps and howls set the tone for
our dreams.
Thanks to Google Images for the photos.
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