Roots

Adjusting

I'm starting to notice the breakdown of my old routines.

Even though my job affords an atypical schedule, the semblance of a structured work week is definitely in the rear view mirror.

Work still occupies hours each day, but it is no longer the driving narrative.

The last few days I've been awake before the birds signal the ascent of the sun, but

the week prior my dreams held me captive until 9am.

One of my first early morning thoughts is what to cook for dinner.

I calculate how many hours I will need to dedicate to kitchen prep and cooking and 

when will I weave those hours into the day.

The past five weeks, I've only had vegetables, grains and beans.

Yesterday I picked up shrimp and halibut from a restaurant pantry.

I will toss the shrimp in a parsley, garlic pesto and roast in a hot oven.

I enjoy having more time in the kitchen to experiment and bake, but 

it also means extra hours cleaning said kitchen.  

The stove and floor are magnets for spills and crumbs.

No doubt, there are aspects of this experience I will miss whenever life resumes

at a pace that no longer requires social distancing.  

Connecting to a simpler way of living is deeply satisfying. 

Desert Escape

Five weeks into quarantine,

I'm beyond grateful for a change of scenery, new paths to hike and streetscapes to photograph.

Working from home is a game changer when it comes not being tied to Hollywood.

For the height of the season in Palm Springs and what would have been Coachella

the desert is quieter than it is on a hot day in August.

Hotels are closed, vacation rentals are verboten

 and most restaurants are shuttered.

It's reminiscent of when I first started to spend time in PS fifteen years ago,

before it was a backdrop from instagram postings and bachelorette parties. 

I'm a seeker of the silver lining, and a peaceful spring in the desert definitely falls into this category.

Street Bandit

Another Day, Another Walk in the Neighborhood

Making Do

This week I took on the dreaded task of organizing the garage.

I strive to keep it uncluttered, but inevitably, over time,

the path from my car to the door gets narrower.

Stuff, stuff, stuff.

My desire to throw it all away battles with my practical side of minimal waste.

You never know when you'll need a sturdy box gives rise to a pile of discarded Amazon cartons.

Even if they are broken down, do I really need to stock pile a dozen?  

What about used bubble warp?

There's also two yards of plush velvet fabric, a beach umbrella, old rugs, 

and a French leather club chair in need of repair. 

Stuff, stuff, stuff.

I started a few days ago with the manageable task of shredding old financial statements

and sorting through bins of old files, photos and letters.  

At night, dislodged memories from long lost encounters embedded in my dreams.

Today I moved the heavy stuff from in front of cabinets whose doors I could no longer access. 

Making Marie Kondo proud, joyless items filled the trash receptacles.

Stuff is replaced by uncluttered space. 

Laundry room, you're next.

We ended the day, toasting the sunset on our little patch of earth at the lowest portion of our garden.

The big backyard project is complete just in time for shelter in place,

but purchasing furniture hangs on my to-do list like limp laundry.  

Vintage lawn chairs plucked from their perch in the garage will have to suffice for now.

Virtual Life

During the fourth week of quarantine I dove into the deep end of virtual gatherings.

I took an early morning pilates mat class.

My monthly book group had a successful and lively zoom.

On a wet and gloomy day, I met high school friends for a late afternoon cocktail. 

Friday night, Scott and I transitioned into the weekend by having a dinner party with friends in SF.

I craved a shower before we gathered around our respective tables,

but I still wore lounge attire and skipped the makeup.

After spending the better part of an hour on Saturday setting my mother up on zoom 

we had a delightful family gathering on Easter morning.

  

I don't know what is more bizarre; quarantine or the way I've assimilated.

Although the pandemic is still gut wrenching,

I can handle reading the news before bed without compromising my sleep.

To avoid grocery stores, I support local restaurants turned pantries.

We are eating well and for the most part, kitchen experiments have been satisfying and successful.

I remain grateful.

We are both still employed, healthy and share our space with ease.

An unseasonably cold and wet April has been both a comfort and challenge.

The weather lends itself to nesting and home projects, but it can also trigger ennui.

Even if my TV viewing is for work, too many hours in front of a large screen

exhausts me.

I need to move.

I need fresh air even if that means walking in the rain with a mask shielding my nose and mouth.

Rainy View

Walk Around the Reservoir

100 Day Project 18/100

Daily Walk

100 Day Project 17/100