Quarantine: Sun. 3/29
This weather. THIS WEATHER. I feel like I'm in a fog. There's no uplift. Or if there is a brief momentary uplift it's erased with a glance at the headlines. What a time. What time, what a time.
I made peanut butter banana muffins for breakfast, because what's stopping me? Limited time? A schedule? The girls played in the basement with their LOL house for most of the morning, while Andrew and I set up an Easter tree with branches from the yard and tiny miniature egg ornaments (me) and cleaned the bathrooms (Andrew). I summoned Ma Ingalls and did all the mending that's been piled on my sewing table for months (CHARLES!). I made a double batch of stuffed shells--one batch for dinner, one batch to freeze, because I panic-ordered two pounds of ricotta last week. After dinner we watched two episodes of Pick of the Litter, a Disney documentary about puppies in training to be guide dogs.
This show is pretty much the exact opposite of Tiger King, where animals are exploited and neglected and mistreated and used for profit; the pups in Pick of the Litter are adored, trained, coddled, and guided into careers that change lives. When their original caregivers have to return them to the center where their formal training will begin, they sob when they say goodbye.
We are not going to become guide dog puppy trainers. Watching the goodbyes was wrenching even though the puppies were going on to fulfill a wonderful purpose. We* may, however, adopt a whole litter of puppies, because why not? What better time?
At bedtime, Lucia accidently jostled Greta's shelf of miniscule Japanese figurines, and there was a momentary drama where a tiny piece of tofu--the size of a typed letter O--was missing. "MY TOFU!!!" Greta wailed, playing it for maximum effect. "MY TOFU IS GONE!" There were tears. We found the tofu. The miniscule tofu has a miniscule silhouette of a cat face on it, because Japan.
It was just kind of a blah day. The kids alternately played and argued. Sometimes they cozied up in their rooms and read, sometimes they prank-played music on each other's Google Minis to get an outraged reaction. We went for a walk and Andrew looked at my lounge pants and said, "Wow, that's a real corona outfit," which was just so mean and unnecessary. I'll be wearing even more outlandish leggings tomorrow in retaliation. I've had a headache all day. THIS WEATHER.
I think there's a homeschooling break tomorrow? Maybe? It seems our next round of instruction begins April 1. Not sure why there are these two loose random days. Lucia's teacher may have given an assignment. Not sure. Not sure about anything at all.
Final two episodes of Tiger King on tap for tonight.
*I
I made peanut butter banana muffins for breakfast, because what's stopping me? Limited time? A schedule? The girls played in the basement with their LOL house for most of the morning, while Andrew and I set up an Easter tree with branches from the yard and tiny miniature egg ornaments (me) and cleaned the bathrooms (Andrew). I summoned Ma Ingalls and did all the mending that's been piled on my sewing table for months (CHARLES!). I made a double batch of stuffed shells--one batch for dinner, one batch to freeze, because I panic-ordered two pounds of ricotta last week. After dinner we watched two episodes of Pick of the Litter, a Disney documentary about puppies in training to be guide dogs.
This show is pretty much the exact opposite of Tiger King, where animals are exploited and neglected and mistreated and used for profit; the pups in Pick of the Litter are adored, trained, coddled, and guided into careers that change lives. When their original caregivers have to return them to the center where their formal training will begin, they sob when they say goodbye.
We are not going to become guide dog puppy trainers. Watching the goodbyes was wrenching even though the puppies were going on to fulfill a wonderful purpose. We* may, however, adopt a whole litter of puppies, because why not? What better time?
At bedtime, Lucia accidently jostled Greta's shelf of miniscule Japanese figurines, and there was a momentary drama where a tiny piece of tofu--the size of a typed letter O--was missing. "MY TOFU!!!" Greta wailed, playing it for maximum effect. "MY TOFU IS GONE!" There were tears. We found the tofu. The miniscule tofu has a miniscule silhouette of a cat face on it, because Japan.
It was just kind of a blah day. The kids alternately played and argued. Sometimes they cozied up in their rooms and read, sometimes they prank-played music on each other's Google Minis to get an outraged reaction. We went for a walk and Andrew looked at my lounge pants and said, "Wow, that's a real corona outfit," which was just so mean and unnecessary. I'll be wearing even more outlandish leggings tomorrow in retaliation. I've had a headache all day. THIS WEATHER.
I think there's a homeschooling break tomorrow? Maybe? It seems our next round of instruction begins April 1. Not sure why there are these two loose random days. Lucia's teacher may have given an assignment. Not sure. Not sure about anything at all.
Final two episodes of Tiger King on tap for tonight.
Comments