War Stories

Dear readers...

It's Sunday.  It's quite difficult to differentiate the days of the week sometimes.  Sundays traditionally do not look like today has been.  Everyone talks about what they will do "when this is over."  One can only guess and only time will tell just when that will be. Because I live in New York....it might not ever be over.

We have had some fun experiences with friends.  We've participated in video wars, food wars, and camping wars.  In a nutshell, taking and sending videos of dinners/what we're doing/challenges.  We have received gifts of food on our porch and we have given gifts of food.  We put up a tent in the living room and camped out overnight and so did our niece (at her house in Ohio).  For the record, our camping trip was last night and my body isn't recovered. You can do a lot of things to keep purpose and meaning. 

If we are old and dear friends, I probably have already laid out my well intentioned plan.  My best strategy by far was to remove myself from social media.  Just like a brave soul walks directly into what everyone else runs from, I'm doing the same in the opposite, and it doesn't require bravery.  While many have flocked to social media several minutes/hours of the day, pouring over posts/news/gossip/memes, I simply made the decision to remove it from my routine.  What blessed peace.  For now, it is proving to be one of the best strategies I could employ. 

I don't want to wear a face mask everywhere I go, but it's now basically required.  I don't want to battle with my kids about routine and the need to shower every day regardless if you step foot outside the door. I don't want to go to work every day and come home to a house full of people who haven't left and pick up (some) pieces on top of everything else. It's exhausting some days and some days those I have left behind knock it out of the park. We're all just living one day.

It's still life.  It still has purpose and meaning. And I am still required to rise up and meet it.

Today is Sunday.  There is sunshine. And my group text message affirms my life and reminds me I am still very secure at the bottom of the food chain where my farming skills are mocked, and no one can EVER forget that I threw a pickle in 1987. 

Look. I'm not likely to plant only one row of corn in the future, but I honestly can't say I won't throw another vegetable.  These are the days of our life. 

Each day has meaning and we can still enjoy those whom we hold dear.

Embrace today.  Mask or not.  Me? My man is going to take me on a motorcycle ride and we are going to see the world. And eat ice cream.