I was up a lot last night. Poor Sheba has diarrhea and so I only rested so that I could hear her jump off the bed each time she needed to go out—and she needed to go out often. I’m glad I don’t have to stack wood today after such disrupted sleep.
This morning’s dawned cloudy but it’s predicted to clear this afternoon and we’re expected to get a spectacular week of sunshine and warm afternoon temperatures—great weather for stacking another two cords of wood that will arrive soon.
This morning, I’m meeting Eoin and François and their dogs for another walk. We walk apart, of course, but I value these safe social connections as a single person in quarantine. They are taking me on walks where I have never been before and I love that they’re doing this. It’s exactly what I wanted to so this year.
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Here’s something to make you feel great: It’s a short tango. What is a tango? A vertical expression of horizontal intention. (That quote is from the person posting this delightful little film.) Link.
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Tonight, decent programming returns to PBS: There’s Call the Midwife, then The World on Fire and then The Windermere Children. The programming on PBS has been shite for the past several weeks; it’s great that Sunday nights are interesting again.
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