Saturday Again

The weeks speed by. We look forward to whatever routines we can hang on to. Saturday mornings used to be breakfast at one of two local diners followed by the Farmer’s Market. It didn’t matter what time we arrived at the market as long as you weren’t too late in the morning, you could still get what you wanted and there was no restriction on how many people could gather to shop, listen to music, buy prepared food and just sit and eat with others on the lawn or one of the benches. Then along came COVID and for a time, even the market had to shut down. When it reopened, it was with safety measures in place, such as a modular fencing that had been used only for special events held once a month in the summer where alcohol could be purchased with food and music provided. The fence now controls the entry into the market, manned by volunteers that keep count of how many have entered and how many have exited. Then orange dots were painted at 6 foot intervals on the sidewalk outside the fence to help remind people to social distance while waiting. At the request of some of us seniors, the first hour was designated for pre orders and the over 55 crowd, but that seemed to put a lot of responsibility on the young volunteers to “police” the line and was ignored by some people.

This week, there were two lines 6 feet apart, one for the pre orders and over 55 crowd and one of others. Being there just a few minutes before they opened, so queued outside the fence until opening time, the Market manager walked the line and asked if you didn’t appear to fit the age requirement if you had pre orders and several folks were moved to the other line. It felt safe. I was in the first group of 25 to enter, was able to quickly pick up our weekly goods and return to the car. Being the Saturday after Thanksgiving, several vendors were not there, and the students for the most part have left the area as theyare on campus semester ended last Saturday and they will have a week vacation, a week of online class, and virtual exams, followed by winter break, so they are out of the town until at least mid to late January unless school continues virtually for the spring semester. As people realize the early hour is for the older folks, I expect that our market experience will be less stressful for me now.

After the market, we now do drive through breakfast in the car, sit in the parking lot and eat, not what we used to do, but still somewhat carrying out a routine.

Yesterday, I placed my curbside order at Eats Natural Food store. The form you use suggests ordering by scoops, cups, or a similar measure as ordering by weight is difficult to envision. Four cups of oatmeal weighs much less than 4 cups of beans or rice for example. I needed oatmeal, so I asked for 4 cups (a quart) and was amused when I opened my bags at home to find this instead of a plastic bag.

A “quart” of dry oatmeal. At least the container can be returned, sanitized and used again, much preferred to a plastic bag.

This suddenly seems silly and irrelevant as I just found out my youngest first cousin who fell ill 2 weeks ago, passed away last night, leaving a husband, two sons, their wives and a young grandson. This is on top of having lost a young niece earlier this month that left a husband and 4 year old son. May their families find peace.

Post Thanksgiving, Heading into Christmas

We always had a rule that no Christmas decorating could be done until after Thanksgiving, then daughter got old enough to complain that we had to wait until after her birthday on the 29th. It became a family tradition to which I still comply. Even when she was younger, she wouldn’t complain if I put up the door wreath between Thanksgiving and her birthday, but nothing else.

She is a grown woman with children of her own and her own house, but still, I wait. I still usually put up the door wreath and pull out my Santa lap quilt in the interim, but nothing else. I am struggling to make the holidays as normal as they can possibly be, and will haul out the Santas, Christmas linens, and in a couple of weeks, the lights and ornaments for a locally cut tree. First, the house needs a deep cleaning. Living on a dirt/gravel road and driveway and having two large shedding dogs in the house, keeping the hair and dust down is a full time job and though I vacuum the exposed areas daily, the deeper mopping under furniture and thorough dusting doesn’t get done as often as it should. Each year that I pull the Santas out, I dream of the Library box shelves with the glass fronts that would help keep the books cleaner and the decorations I take out more dust free. Or maybe the revolving shelves like in mysteries, so the shelves just need to be revolved to the decorated side at Christmas and the book side the rest of the year.

All gifts are purchased or made and ready to be wrapped and packaged. One box to be mailed to Son 2’s family which will include the Grandmom made hand knit stocking for the youngest grandson, born about two weeks after last Christmas. Another box to be delivered in a second socially distanced meeting with Son 1 in early December. The gifts for daughter and her kids, as she lives nearby, will be delivered to their door on Christmas, an opportunity for us to not spend the day sitting in our house alone because the kids can’t visit this year. We will give them their gifts outdoors and come home.

In mid December, I have an opportunity to again set up a craft display and honor sale at Wilderness Road Regional Museum. Since the spinning challenge that I do each month with the Jenkins spindles encourages projects made with the yarn spun, I spent the last couple of days knitting a pair of plain, no pattern, hand spun, hand knit fingerless mitts to take to the sale. A few hats, mitts and mittens, a couple woven and lined bags, and a few smaller simpler shawls or scarves will also go along with a basket of handspun yarn skeins. The event is by reservation for two afternoons/early evenings and will hopefully reduce my inventory a bit before I have to report it to the county for tax purposes early in next year.

For now, I am going to grab mop and dust cloth and get ready to set up for the next holiday as soon as it is “legal.”

Take care. Hopefully next year will be closer to normal, even if the normal is a new normal. I want to hug my kids and grandkids, not see them at distances of a dozen feet.

Happy Thanksgiving

Determined to make this as normal as possible in these abnormal times, two of my kids and I began early with a group text on our prep of our meals for our individual families. Instead of one big meal for a gang, it is 3 big meals served in three separate homes. The first text of the morning was from daughter with “Vote of confidence from my kids this morning: ‘Uncle Todd always makes the turkey. Do you even know how mom?'” This got us going exchanging how and what we were doing. Son 1 and I spatchcock our turkey, he varied our usual and nearly butterflied his with the cleaver trying it to flatten it and added a step with coarse salt and chopped herbs rubbed in the inside yesterday to “brine” over night. Daughter stating she didn’t have the tools to spatchcock so she was making a traditional bird. Son 1 stating he used clean tin snips and a cleaver. I am used to doing an 18-22 pasture raised bird for the gang, so an under 12 pounder had me baffled as to time. I managed to cut the backbone out with poultry shears, but had to pop the breastbone with my cleaver to flatten mine. Son 1 responded with 3, maybe 4 minutes cooking time when I asked, LOL. I put a large sweet potato in the oven when the turkey went in and when I was ready to peel, slice, and season it for the casserole it wasn’t done, so I popped it in the microware, pushed potato and came upstairs. Then I started smelling smoke, the microwave didn’t shut off and the yam was totally cremated and smoke filling the house. Fortunately it is 65 degrees outside so all doors were opened, yam dumped in cold water and a new yam cooked in the microwave with me watching like hawk.

In spite of not having them all here, texting back and forth has been fun, lots of encouragement, laughs, photos, fun. I prepared a traditional Thanksgiving, made the pies from pumpkins I grew, homemade rolls, peas and potatoes from our garden, sweet potatoes from the Farmers Market, fresh cranberries, pickles I made. Olives were purchased, but they don’t grow here. We are stuffed, will be eating turkey until Christmas, have quarts of fresh turkey broth. Everything made in smaller quantities, but made with love.

Happy Thanksgiving from us to you. Maybe next year we can be with our families again.