It’s been a long year. Anyone out there disagree with me? No, I didn’t think so. Now, aided by spring and its irrepressible promise of new opportunities, it at last feels to me like there’s a future out there, waiting to be explored.
Spring arrived on the 20th. On the 23rd the blueberry bushes and asparagus crowns I ordered from Gurney’s several weeks ago appeared on my doorstep. It was a cool but sunny afternoon, so I got to work in the south garden bed. The soil is newly enriched with part of the 5 yards of compost that arrived a month ago, and I had two barrels of sawdust to work with to lower the pH for the blueberries (they like acidic soil).
Getting the blueberries in was pretty straightforward, but when I saw asparagus crowns for the first time in my life I had to step back and ask YouTube how it worked.
It took a lot of digging.
Good thing we like dirt!
True, 9. You, Lily and I are lucky we grew up with guidance from Grandpa Denny, who loved working in the garden. Nothing made him happier than to see someone, anyone, putting in a good day’s work with the soil.
Two long, deep ditches sufficed for 10 crowns. 10 crowns! I can’t even imagine how much asparagus the patch will eventually yield but I have a hunch my neighbors will be mighty pleased for years to come. If they like asparagus, that is.
Since last week I’ve been anticipating the future with less dread. Last Friday, when I was in a Zoom meeting with a charitable organization I belong to, I realized the prospect of meeting in person, in a group, with actual, live people terrified me! It’s a big transition, going from twelve months of relative isolation to life opening up again and I’m not quite ready. I decided to get some counseling to help me strategize for the more open future. My social tools are rusty and my social filters are blocked with a year’s worth of pandemic dust bunnies.
Does this mean you’re crazy?
No more than usual, 9, but thanks for asking. Sometimes even your best friend or closest family member can’t help you through things. That’s when you look for help.
Given the high demand for therapists these days (sweet vindication, I am far from the only one in need!) I felt incredibly fortunate to get an appointment quickly. Also, I happily anticipate signing up for a COVID vaccine appointment on March 31, when people in my phase qualify.
I hate shots!
Don’t worry, 9, since you’re 9 you don’t get one right now. But maybe by fall. . .
Okay, that was mean of me. I’m pretty sure my vaccine will cover all three of us for the future so you and Lily don’t have to worry.
This weekend I am dipping my toe in the social water and doing two different things with two different friends. One of them, like me, is a bass player. We’re getting together in her garage on Saturday to see if we can work up some songs for two basses.
Yes, as it happens, Lily. And definitely with social distancing and possibly masks in place. Both my friend and I are well-acquainted with early rock and roll (1950s and 60s) and early country (Carter Family, Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, etc.). The stakes are low at this point and we both think it will be fun.
The other weekend plan- -meeting a friend for coffee somewhere downtown on Sunday afternoon. My last deliberate downtown event, two weekends ago, was not so good. I went to listen to live music at a winery tasting room that had both indoor and outdoor seating but I didn’t realize until I’d purchased my glass of wine that all the unoccupied seats were reserved for the time the music started. It was awkward, being in a space that was a little more confined than comfortable for social distancing, especially without a good place to sit. I felt trapped and got really nervous.
It will be wonderful when the future feels more spontaneous and less planned, but, hey, I’ve got to start somewhere. Seeing pictures my vaccinated friends post, doing some simple social thing like getting together for a cup of coffee, unmasked, makes me really happy for them, and also pretty envious. Sad kind of envious. But I’m also committed to following the guidelines and waiting my turn.
And Lily, 9, our turn comes in the very near future!
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