Dear Sunday Letter friends,
I hope everyone is doing okay on this Palm Sunday. For me, this last week went by quickly. But March lasted a freakin’ EON. Probably because we are now living in the Twilight Zone.
Yesterday, winter returned to northwest Arkansas. Mid-30s with a cold rain. Um, no thank you. Really, it was like winter said, “You know, you ought to stay inside, grab the Lemon Pledge and give your tabletops a swipe. Maybe do some laundry?”
So I did.
“No moral, no message, no prophetic tract, just a simple statement of fact: for civilization to survive, the human race has to remain civilized.” The Twilight Zone
Scrimp and Save
I find myself scrimping and saving more so than normal. Do you? I don’t want to waste even a morsel of food so I figure out ways to turn leftovers into new dishes. Add rice to soup when other ingredients are running low. Rinse out a plastic carrot bag to use again. Freeze about-to-go-bad fruit to be used later in smoothies.
That kind of thing.
My ancestors never wasted anything. They re-used newspaper for wallpaper, could feed the whole family plus farmhands from modest pantry items, survived on very little. I suspect this thrifty instinct is buried deep within my DNA. Now, as frugality drifts to the surface of my new (temporary) normal, I catch glimpses of those long-deceased family members when I turn the compost, plant onions, ration toilet paper to a few squares a day. And I like to think they help me, guide me, because they are part of me.
Not that I was ever wasteful. But it seems I’m more aware.
By the way, the smoothie above was made with frozen mango, 2% Lactaid milk, Goodbelly Probiotic (blueberry & acai), bee pollen, ice. Yummy!
To tell you the truth, I’ve never in my life been so appreciative to the weeds growing in our flower beds. Pulling weeds provides a distraction, a few hours of release and escape each day (when it isn’t raining).
And the good thing about rain? The weeds will grow like crazy.
I don’t know the names of all the weeds growing in our yard, but maybe now would be a good time to learn their names. Now that I have a better appreciation for them.
Wide Open Space
I’m also grateful to live in a place with wide open spaces. I can’t imagine how much worse the coronavirus situation is for those living in a tiny Manhattan apartment. Yikes.
We can garden and walk the dogs. We can walk along empty Dickson Street or up to Mt. Sequoyah. Go for a Sunday drive to Prairie Grove or Cane Hill. There are many ways to be alone yet still get fresh air.
We are working on a new bed in our backyard and because of its location, we had to move our bird feeders a bit closer to the house. This has turned out to be a good thing. I can better see the birds from our kitchen window.
Check out Woody Woodpecker. He’s very entertaining, except for those times when he likes to peck on our chimney cover.
We Got This
They say the next two weeks will be particularly bad. They say it’s more important than ever to stay home. And if you have to go out, you should wear a mask. (And by they I mean Dr. Fauci.)
Last week, I read this spot-on analogy—when the majority of people stay home but a few do not, it’s like having a peeing section in the swimming pool…
Stay strong, friends.
“Well, at least I still have my books. And the best thing is, there’s time now… all the time I need.” The Twilight Zone
Things Momma Says
“I guess my acting days are over.”
(Fyi, Momma was an extra in several movies, once upon a time.)
I apologize for such a brief Sunday Letter. Evidently the longer this situation drags on, the less I have to say.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.