Quarantine: Sat. 4/25
Sun today, yay. The kids slept late. After breakfast we Zoomed with Mom, Dad, Molly, and Luca so Lucia could play through the piano pieces she was performing later today. Then L&G went off to play outside in the mud again, and Luca went outside, and the adults talked for a while. L&G stayed outside in the mud puddle until recital time--a Zoom recital, of course. Greta didn't have to perform today because she's still working on her piece. Lucia played four pieces she's been keeping up for about a year--their teacher's policy is that once you perform the piece, you don't have to keep it up for the book recital down the road. Lucia was nervous about the Zoom format, imagining all the people watching her, but did great.
Dinner was pierogies and kielbasa, and we ate on the porch. Then we watched two episodes of Little House, a crazy dark set of episodes about the death of the Ingalls infant, Charles, and Laura's self-blame for the death. (I had to Google to see what the baby died from. The cause isn't definitively known, but it was almost certainly a mild illness that would be easily treated today.)
And that was the day. A nice Saturday. Ha ha ha ha ha "Saturday." Like it's any different from any other day.
Feeling a bit bleak today. It just seems like nothing will ever be the same again. In these moods, I tend to speculate out loud about how future generations will feel about life pre-March 2020. Andrew hates when I start speaking as my own grandchildren, asking their mothers, Lucia and Greta, to tell them what it was like in the olden days, when children went to school and people traveled to other countries. "Oh, Mother, tell us about when you rode a school bus, packed in with other children! Oh, Mother, tell us about when you actually went to JAPAN!" Today I added a response from Lucia and Greta: "Children, there was a time when your grandfather had to go away to other places to have business meetings face to face!" "But Mother, why would he do that? It's so DANGEROUS!" This can go on. Andrew was a captive audience, loading the dishwasher. We've been married so long I can feel his eyes rolling even when I'm not looking at him.
Dinner was pierogies and kielbasa, and we ate on the porch. Then we watched two episodes of Little House, a crazy dark set of episodes about the death of the Ingalls infant, Charles, and Laura's self-blame for the death. (I had to Google to see what the baby died from. The cause isn't definitively known, but it was almost certainly a mild illness that would be easily treated today.)
And that was the day. A nice Saturday. Ha ha ha ha ha "Saturday." Like it's any different from any other day.
Feeling a bit bleak today. It just seems like nothing will ever be the same again. In these moods, I tend to speculate out loud about how future generations will feel about life pre-March 2020. Andrew hates when I start speaking as my own grandchildren, asking their mothers, Lucia and Greta, to tell them what it was like in the olden days, when children went to school and people traveled to other countries. "Oh, Mother, tell us about when you rode a school bus, packed in with other children! Oh, Mother, tell us about when you actually went to JAPAN!" Today I added a response from Lucia and Greta: "Children, there was a time when your grandfather had to go away to other places to have business meetings face to face!" "But Mother, why would he do that? It's so DANGEROUS!" This can go on. Andrew was a captive audience, loading the dishwasher. We've been married so long I can feel his eyes rolling even when I'm not looking at him.
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