It’s been very cold at night, low to mid teens F, and this is the view out the clean room window of the New Herb garden. Spring seems a long ways away.
Sunday was a lazy day, just hauled in wood and read and talked with my sister in NM. Then late afternoon I got a call from the Sillimans. The mom had tested positive but was asymptomatic. They planned to quarantine for 2 weeks, and I decided to also. Tom had been here on Friday but I had not seen his wife in weeks. They’ve no idea who from or when she was contaminated. She’d tested negative 2 weeks before.
It’s not a big deal for me, as I never go anywhere. My carpenter has had his first vaccine shot. My helper friend just finished his series. They both felt they will be safe. I cancelled bodywork for this week and let my brother know he couldn’t come inside when he comes to get the splitter to the mechanic for repair on Friday.
The only problems is getting a lot of canned food for the old cat, and getting eggs from Sillimans. Other than that, my life stays the same. I doubt I’ve gotten it, but better safe than sorry.
I came across this somewhere and right now it’s very appropriate and very hard to do. Everywhere there are reminders of what we had planned for the coming years. Everywhere there are reminders of what he did out here on the farm. Every day someone needs to know something he knew.
I am still not at a place where I can plan for the years ahead. It will be months before that happens. In the meantime, I just keep plugging along with finishing the house and trying to plow through the tsunami of paperwork. I keep trying to enjoy the tiny improvements as they happen, trying to make little things happen that I might enjoy over time.
And one day, I will realize that I’ve made a new life, out of what he and I had planned and what I’ve had to do, and it will be a calm, peaceful life here on the farm.