I’ve started writing my long walk journal, a mere three years later. I’m averaging about one day written up per day I spend writing, but I’m not writing every day, so I don’t expect it to be done before, oh, the end of summer or so.

Last night, I helped Meghan make a face mask for me. I’m still not cleared for sewing machine duty.

Tonight’s other kitchen victory: Meghan made herself and me each a mezzo e mezzo (“half and half”): half bourbon, half Amaro Amarino from local Letterpress Distilling. (They ship, or deliver locally.) (Thanks for the tip, Amy.)

Tonight’s kitchen victory: risotto that the bambina liked.

Tried to sew a cloth face mask, but my sewing was bad when I last tried about 35 years ago, and I’ve never used a sewing machine before. I’ll try again tomorrow.

Finally writing up my long walk (three years ago now!). Good memories.

Did some yardening with Meghan.

Yesterday’s kitchen victory: killing that damn fruit fly.

More anxiety dreams about disease. I don’t feel like I’m too stressed overall, but at the very least my dreams are blowing off some steam.

Tonight’s kitchen victory: gougères with pancetta and sage.

I keep thinking about Ursula K. Le Guin’s Always Coming Home as our modern economic system staggers.

The dude seems to be fully recovered, by the way.

Took an hour-and-a-half walk yesterday past the quarantine/recovery structures they’re building on the soccer fields, and an hour walk today past the kids’ next-year schools.

Look, I know we’re in the middle of a shitty self-inflicted apocalypse, but it was a minor revelation today when I realized how many fewer airplanes were flying over our house.

Just got the grocery delivery, and apparently we’re hoarding unsalted butter. Note this for when you find our obese corpses after the apocalypse.