This is my 17th consecutive day of blogging through Covid-19.
In non-Covid time (remember that?) I often felt I had nothing to write about. Nothing in my hum-drum ordinary life demanded to be pegged to the page.
So it's ironic that now, when my life has closed in upon itself, shrunken to the bare essentials of getting through another stay-home day, the smallest moments feel note-worthy.
With the warmth of the sun today, my mom and I got back to our window-washing project. Because we only wash one window each day, the job feels like a treat, a special event. We look at our clean window; we preen and glow. Who knew window washing could offer such satisfaction?
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My daughter Palmer, self-isolating in Colorado, is worried about her 91-year-old grandma (Dan's mom) who lives a mile from us. Although about the same age, Janet is stronger physically and mentally than my parents. Not only does she live independently, during non-Covid time when I'm teaching, she drives to my house each day to run laundry, start the dishwasher, wipe down the counters. (Pretty sure I just heard you sigh with envy.) Janet and I have also been learning to play the accordion together for the past three years. Our nightly practice is our shared joy, and we don't want Covid-19 to stop us.
But Palmer asked me to please wear a mask while visiting Grandma Janet. So guess who made my mask? The same amazing woman who trimmed down one of my tablecloths so it would fit my parents' small table in the basement (and then sewed napkins from the trimmed fabric): Janet.
Tonight she presented me with four masks she had made: two with ties of varying widths, two with elastic.
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When everything else has come to a standstill, small gestures of helpfulness and the simplicity of kindness rise up like monuments. Blogworthy.
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| Facemask by Janet |
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| Palmer (and Willet) in Colorado today. |
Enough.
Stay well.
Write.
Allison
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