The Salad Days
We’ve been granted a reprieve here in Waveland. Two weeks before descent of coronavirus, my husband had hip surgery. I wrote about the harrowing experience here. Six weeks later, after an encouraging doctor’s report, we have entered the salad days.
Thing about the salad days, sometimes it’s hard to know you’re in them until you look back. At the time, they might seem pretty awful. Until things get even more awful.
As I type this, it seems like a pretty depressing philosophy.
It’s not intended to be. It’s intended to be a reminder to enjoy totally the day you’re in. Don’t spend your time pining for what isn’t. Even if your days are in the time of coronavirus. This day, today, it might be the best you have for a while.
I’m thankful for our salad days as we gradually return to normal in our house. I have moved out of the guest bedroom and back into our bedroom. Hard to tell the difference, isn’t it?
I’ve learned a lot during these salad days. Thick cut bacon doesn’t cook like regular bacon. I can make a spinach omelet. In fact, spinach salad of different varieties has become a specialty my husband actually asks for (one of our sources of food delivers fresh spinach.) The new mop is named “tornado” because you twist it to wring out the water (it should have been called a twister.) Plastic measuring cups with measurement indicators that have rubbed off are a bitch.
During these easier days, I’ve settled into a routine of riding my bike one day and doing arm exercises the next. At least I follow that routine when I’m not cleaning bathrooms and replanting ferns to a new spot where I hope they will thrive (if you can’t go buy new plants, move around the ones you have, right?)
Oh, and during our trip to New Orleans for the doctor’s visit, we got to run by the kids’ house and lay eyes on the grand kids in person. Here’s us offering them grandparent love during the time of COVID-19.
I hope your days are streaming okay. That you are calm. Happy. Enjoying the salad days.