Corona Daze

Yes, daze, as in "We are all in a daze because of the corona virus and have no idea what day it is anymore or even if it's day or night;" and corona, as in "On Tuesday the sun came out."

Three of my grandchildren live only a few blocks away, and even though we aren't going into each other's homes right now, we thought it would be fine for them to come and play in my yard - the yard they love so well - and I love having them here. We kept our distance while they (Ethan and Zeke; Orion did not come this time) dug in the dirt, made mud, and swung on the swings, and I worked in the garden.

Zeke asked if he could come over every day. I said, "Sure, we'll call it recess," since they are doing their school work at home. I asked them how they like doing schoolwork at home and Ethan told me it was "Kind of weird because school is for work and home is for play." Good point. I took the opportunity, as I love to do, to tell them about life in the olden days when we wore our best clothes to school - dresses for girls (well, umm...except for this tomboy who managed to get away with pants her entire grammar school career, but they were clean) and slacks and button down shirts for boys, and shiny shoes - no sneakers - and when we came home, we immediately changed into our play clothes. Our garb was a clear signal as to whether we were in school mode or play mode.



Ethan and Zeke-a-diggin' in the dirt; dig, diggidy-digga-digga...





Oh, water boy, bring your buck-buck-bucket here...







You can't see them, but the tiny little noses of the pea plants have begun to poke through the dirt.

Lettuce, arugula, and Swiss chard are planted.

There's something so therapeutic about smoothing a mound of dirt with a rake, isn't there? I remember a few years back you could buy a small desk-top box with sand and a small rake for the office for relaxation purposes. It's elemental, really, and the reason, I'm sure, that we love the beach. 

A few of this year's garden treasures (so far).

Siberian squill

 My mother's Japanese quince 

Okay, Grandma - we're going home now. This path has been traversed by my family, going back to my grandmother, for approximately ninety years. The beat goes on.



The view from my front porch these days: not a soul to be seen. It was almost warm enough for fiddle tunes but I didn't last too long because of the chilly wind. 

The Digging Song (Ethan and Zeke a-Diggin' in the Dirt, ©Sara Piazza)