The third week of January was a particularly icy one for Lincoln. On Rusty's routine walk, he slipped, fell, and injured his left shoulder. The doc determined that he would need rotator cuff surgery. Several things delayed the scheduled surgery, so Rusty spent the remainder of January, all of February and half of March with a compromised shoulder.
He was still able to take me to dinner for Valentine's Day.
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| sharing some bubbly at Billy's |
He could also play the b-flat with a little assistance from a towel under his arm.
We invited some friends to join us for dinner and then coerced them into seeing our new cedar-strip canoe and watching our video of the building process. They were kind to us and "oohed" and "ahhed" as we hoped they would.
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| Lou, Rusty, Sue, Karl, Dave |
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| And yet, the long waiting for surgery began to take its toll. |
I had an evening out with my Loveknotter friends. We had dinner at the Blue Orchid and then went to the Lied Center for "She the PEOPLE" by The Second City. As one might guess from the title, this show was very pro-women's rights and perhaps not the most enjoyable show for the men in the audience.
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| Chris, Lorraine, Linda, Carol |
The next morning I flew to Thousand Palms, CA to help celebrate my Mom's 94th birthday.
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| Love you, Mom! |
Dar and Tom hosted us in their lovely place on the 2nd hole of the golf course (If only I played!)
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| Dar drove us all over the Coachella Valley. It is beautiful! |
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| We stopped at Shields date farm. Nearly all dates sold in the U.S. are grown in this valley. |
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| The fancy resorts and hotels have gorgeous flowers |
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| and flamingoes! |
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| We lunched in Palm Springs |
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| ...and drank wine in the hot tub |
I am so grateful to Tom and Dar for being such fabulous host. I'm also very glad that my 94-year-old mom can still manage an airplane flight to be with us.
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| I saw these ladies at the airport and it made me giggle. Could be me and my buds in a few years. |
And then the world as we know it shut down.
Covid 19
This is a pandemic that will long be remembered by several generations in the coming years. Rusty and I are doing the best we can to stay at home. On the rare occasions we need to go out, we are very careful to glove-up and then sanitize everything after we get home.
We are also looking for things to do that fall within the guidelines.
One of my projects has been to design a mosaic that I plan to create this summer in my garden.
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| Future mosaic for my garden |
I've also hauled 14 storage bins full of mulch into my garden. The city puts old trees through a shredder and then piles it up for people like me to help themselves. It's labor intensive, but free!
Rusty sometimes needs extra help in the shop since he's limited to one arm.
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| Using the table saw to help Rusty in the shop. |
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| Gretchen and I walk 3-5 miles every day, except when the weather breaks and I can ride my bike. |
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| Chalk messages |
I'm always needing a project. It's been raining for several days, so I decided to paint our bathroom.
Rusty also paints, but his creations are way more beautiful than mine.
There are many things I am thankful for, despite the social distancing required by Covid-19 restrictions. When Gretchen and I walk we hear the beautiful song of the meadowlark and see inspiring chalk-messages on the sidewalk. I see many families taking walks and bike-rides together; I hope they will enjoy it so much that they will continue the practice when this isolation is over. I see schools and businesses learning to do things via the internet. How much of this will change the way we do business or educate our children in the years to come? Psychologists have been warning us for years to slow down and put priorities on our families instead of our jobs. Maybe now is the time. Maybe we will even see our neighbors on the other side of the fence?
In case you missed Ted Kooser's recent poem in the newspapers, here it is. It gives special recognition to those who have been hoarding toilet paper.
Full Moon
The moon was in self-isolation, too,
and wearing a white mask as it passed us
in an aisle of the night, keeping a distance
not acknowledging us. It was pushing
a cart heaped up with stars, far more stars
than any moon could ever need, the cart
sparkling, a few little stars falling out,
left behind as the moon rolled past,
on its way toward eternity's checkout.
Stay well! (And stay home.)
