I read that some of the hot trends in quarantine have been regrowing cut plants in water (the daughter has done that successfully) and sourdough bread. I think about the bread and realise it's too big of a commitment. If you go away you have to have it minded, like a pet, but pets give love, the starter is only the beginning of the process. Then you have to make the bread and wait and knead and wait some more. The starter makes you earn it's affection. I realise I have become commitment phobic. I'm not even going to give my time to a starter. I am saving that energy for me. Today, although I hung out three loads of washing and brought them in (the daughter is doing an autumnal clean), I didn't fold them! This is something that hasn't happened before. It is strangely satisfying. I have changed so much after my solo year abroad. I am putting my foot down (or maybe feet up) and have a few boundaries established (well one, but that's better than none). Quite proud of myself. You have to start somewhere and not folding washing and sourdough starters are the ones I'm starting with.
I bit the bullet and went shopping again. I chose a place that had hand sanitiser stations and orange coloured round social distancing spots on the floor, with a person who made sure we did. I felt safe. I'm still in European fear mode; it's hard to let it go and the Aussies freak me out. People in groups chatting, pushing past you in the aisles. One man in his fifties , wearing a mask, moved aside when I came by. Should I have asked him for a date? I feel that I should have. They are a rare species. I smiled warmly at people with masks, I couldn't tell if they smiled back.
Another strange thing happened today, I darned! Yes, an old fashioned Amish sort of activity. I went to put a warm chenille quilt onto my bed with the sudden weather change and found there was a metre long split in it. Pre quarantine, I would have folded it and put it away for another day. Today I said to myself: "What are you waiting for? The time is now." And there I sat like a Victorian woman of the finest quality, sewing. What next? Stay tuned. This could get interesting.
The aforementioned chenille bedspread mended.
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