Tuesday I was plagued with a headache until mid-afternoon when I went to the park and my spirits lifted in the glory of such warm temperatures and brilliant sunshine. That day broke clear, but then light clouds rolled in. However, they burned off by noon and the rest of the day was filled with sunshine and warmer temperatures.
Today is markedly warmer. Even though the sky is clear—it’s six am—the temperature is above freezing and mornings are predicted to stay that way through the coming week of sunshine and much warmer afternoon temperatures. It truly feels like Winter is over.
Today I can water the gardens. They need it but I’ve been loath to do it when night temperatures fall below freezing. I’ll also cut some of the lawns, incredulous that there’s a need so early in the season.
I talked to Dianne and she is still coming to visit this weekend. I'm happy that she's coming; she says she's packing a picnic to have in her car with Ashley, her daughter, whilst they’re on the ferry. B Ferries have authorized people to stay in their cars suring the pandemic.
One cool thing about the upgrade to my computer is that I am dictating my posts now. I can also dictate my emails, thanks to direction on how to do so from Bruce.
Today I’ll finish The Overstory. It wasn’t the easiest read, I have to say. The interruptions to reading caused by visits and baking made it a bit of a challenge for my old brain to keep track of the characters, and whereas it was interesting, it wasn’t compelling (for me). Still, I’m very glad I read it and now I’ve to get caught up on my New Yorkers so that I can pass them on to Anna.
I went to the market at eight am, when it opened, to see if I could get the things I wanted for the dinner I’ll make Dianne and Ashlee. I went when it’s at its emptiest—like the shelves. There is no bread, no flour, little butter and no frozen vegetables. We think our farmers’ markets will be cancelled too but they’ll have roadside stalls we can visit, I’m sure.
I joined my friends for the community dog walk—we’re down to three people now; two are in voluntary isolation—and we marveled at the beauty of our forest and its smells. Forest walking is a sublime antidote to the news.