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Morning Song by Darlinggirl
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Sacrificing now, to have later.
October 15, 2020

Even before Dr. F. in the States announced the news that travel for Thanksgiving must be set aside this Thanksgiving, everyone from Justin Trudeau (speaking to the whole country),every single one of my husband’s doctors (in three cities and one island) declared travel is absolutely not possible for Himself by plane, train, automobile or foot. Never mind the sheer distance and time in airports and on planes. Our primary care doctor took me aside in September to make certain no traveling for Canadian Thanksgiving and only our Bubble Members IF they had not traveled off into large cities and other provinces.

This feels like sacrificing now to have a chance for any later. To be completely honest, I am just as frightened by getting through any illness and possible crisis. Quarantine for two weeks in a hotel room, if we traveled!? Alone, sure I could. The hotel we stay in Maryland is quite nice and acceptable. Plus, I could keep myself diverted and entertained, if by myself. My spouse? Only if in an induced coma! Maybe.

Our children had talked about flying here, maybe later due to the campaign and election but, came to the conclusion it is not a responsible plan. Our granddaughters are crushed and of course, their little brother feels the exact same way as he sees his sisters feel and express. His trip yesterday to receive his flu shot, with his sisters, was his first trip outside his house/yard/street since March. He had not been in a car or anything but one trip to Critical Care for an ear infection he had when lockdown started. He was so excited, he forgot to cry after his shot and was just wide-eyed with the thrill of it all.

He turned two during the lockdown. He figured out how to use Echo to call me before his second birthday. He thinks it is perfectly natural to walk up to a device and holler ‘Call Granpa. Call Myname” His world is their home, yard, their nanny, their sweet dog and his big sisters and parents. Workers at the house send him into sheer joy, even if he has to watch from a distance or from windows or a stair landing or porch.

He wore his mask at the doctors’ and on the street without any problems and my goodness, if a two year and two seven year olds can do this, what is going on with all the adults that won’t?

I digress. I have had to be a really sensitive cheerleader-therapist a lot these past few days. Our Bubble had been burst badly, so Canadian Thanksgiving was lots of every type of social media and a non-traditional menu.

The apple crop and garden harvest has kept me really busy and still plenty to do. The potatoes are coming on strong, both Baking and Yukon Gold. Two huge loads of firewood were delivered today and I took videos of the marvelous lady and her truck and supreme driving skills for our grandson. Getting a big truck and trailer up our steep driveway and through the side gates takes real mastery. Talking with her later, from one side of the porch far away from her, she shared she grew up on a cattle place in Alberta. Her family has had it since they were called “stations.” It was great fun talking with her, we made lots of jokes about our “Alberta-Sized Social Distancing” and the scent of the roast beef in our oven. She was impressed with the climbing tomatoes along the far side of the porch, they are plump and gorgeous and smell heavenly,

That bit of friendly chatting and banter put a bit of spring back into my step and cheered me considerably. It was fun watching her unload that firewood and smell the wonderful essence of well-seasoned wood and mixed with the crisp sea breezes, oh, no candle or perfume can truly catch that scent! My asters are blooming profusely and the hawthornes are covered with glossy, scarlet red berries and the mountains purple blue.

So I get a bit lonesome, this place would give so much joy and space to others too. So my voice gets cracked and rusty from hours and hours Zooming around and Facing Time. It is truly better than nothing but so tiring and at times, frustrating. My house seems a bit empty but full all the time, since we have so few places to go to or people over now. My heart aches too, at the distance from cherished ones and I get tired of worrying so much, keeping it to myself.

It is all too easy to understand but I certainly do. Seeing the big picture now is the name of the game. Then, act accordingly.

Horatio Hornblower’s got nothing on me!

It’s funny how many times one can be interrupted even with so very few people in one’s circle. Bubble?

As I threw today’s attempt of a post, between two long FaceTime marathons, three doctors’ phone calls and all the new instructions and getting dates and times shuffled around, even for the flu vaccine, firewood delivery and then the hired worker to sort and stack all that I may have twenty minutes of space before nine o’clock medications and snack, tea and bedtime for my spouse. All together, that takes at least an hour of attentive activities.

Brain is rattling and going a thousand miles a minute. Sorting out next round of medications in their separate china bowls, logging blood pressure and oxygenation and more subtle cheerleading and disappointment management...

Town Hall.
Elections here.
Overseeing self-quarantine of guest.
Family issues with family here.
Observing the stress

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