I had to "run the gauntlet" today. I was due for a stock up on things best acquired in the city. I put it off last week. I put it off Monday and Tuesday.
Yesterday I was glad I delayed-one of those rare days with a Southern breeze to keep the mosquitoes at bay, intermittent sun-we are thankful for a handful of days like those a year.
Then the Willow pointed out yesterday was a no shopping protest in support of BLM, so we both agreed it was a good day to stay home on all accounts.
But I was feeling pressed to get the run done this week, with an upcoming mask defiant gathering scheduled for the state border this weekend, I had no intention of exposing myself to the returning infectees-I mean, attendees.
We were forecast for a line of thunderstorms-it looked like it would hit us late afternoon so I figured a morning dash was in order. There was a heavy police presence in the Capital city-not sure what was going on, except I did see one hippy pulled over and a pickup with flags a flapping on the other side of town-an American on one side of the cab, and a Trump 2020 on the other. They weren't pulled over, although I would think you would need a parade permit to attach things of that sort to a vehicle and not be able to just drive around with same.
Most southern and coastal counties have been under mandatory mask wearing while shopping orders. For some reason the county the capitol lies in was not included, although the cities north and south of Bangor and Lew-Aub respectively, were.
The door counters and cart cleaning was no where to be seen at any of the three major retailers I stopped at, and one smaller shop had a sign merely asking customers "to not come in if you are sick."
WOW ok.
But all is not lost-I spied a car with New York plates in one busy parking lot, and had to chuckle to note empty parking spots on either side of it even though it was in a prime location. Social distancing parking lot style No one was going to park next to that out of stater!
The thunder started grumbling in the distance a few hours after I returned home. I was trying to catch up online and set the notebook aside to take care of "night chores"= the goats, goose, hen and rooster all needed night food and water and tucking in for the night.
I heard a doe huffing repeatedly down in the marsh-was that fly blown rib cage lying in the road that of her missing fawn? The thunder grew persistent along with her calls. I tried to keep loose as I wrapped it up, well aware that I am under tall trees most of which bear lightning scars, that I have to come into contact with metal fences that are definitely grounded in the damp earth, that I seem to attract lightning like that ribcage was attracting flies, but I was going to have faith, face death, so let it come, I was not going to panic, my heart was not going to race, my butt cheeks were not going to climb into my lower lumbar.
A few spatters of rain hit as I closed the last door and gate-too late to grab the few laundry items on the line, they would get a freshwater rain rinse.
I calmly walked in and shut the back door and the heavens opened up. Thunder has been roaring overhead as I type this, the air full of the smell of ozone. My foot on the slate is tingling. The sky is even making noises like a gigantic door creaking on its hinges.
The Gods smiled upon me and I thank them.
Yesterday I was glad I delayed-one of those rare days with a Southern breeze to keep the mosquitoes at bay, intermittent sun-we are thankful for a handful of days like those a year.
Then the Willow pointed out yesterday was a no shopping protest in support of BLM, so we both agreed it was a good day to stay home on all accounts.
But I was feeling pressed to get the run done this week, with an upcoming mask defiant gathering scheduled for the state border this weekend, I had no intention of exposing myself to the returning infectees-I mean, attendees.
We were forecast for a line of thunderstorms-it looked like it would hit us late afternoon so I figured a morning dash was in order. There was a heavy police presence in the Capital city-not sure what was going on, except I did see one hippy pulled over and a pickup with flags a flapping on the other side of town-an American on one side of the cab, and a Trump 2020 on the other. They weren't pulled over, although I would think you would need a parade permit to attach things of that sort to a vehicle and not be able to just drive around with same.
Most southern and coastal counties have been under mandatory mask wearing while shopping orders. For some reason the county the capitol lies in was not included, although the cities north and south of Bangor and Lew-Aub respectively, were.
The door counters and cart cleaning was no where to be seen at any of the three major retailers I stopped at, and one smaller shop had a sign merely asking customers "to not come in if you are sick."
WOW ok.
But all is not lost-I spied a car with New York plates in one busy parking lot, and had to chuckle to note empty parking spots on either side of it even though it was in a prime location. Social distancing parking lot style No one was going to park next to that out of stater!
The thunder started grumbling in the distance a few hours after I returned home. I was trying to catch up online and set the notebook aside to take care of "night chores"= the goats, goose, hen and rooster all needed night food and water and tucking in for the night.
I heard a doe huffing repeatedly down in the marsh-was that fly blown rib cage lying in the road that of her missing fawn? The thunder grew persistent along with her calls. I tried to keep loose as I wrapped it up, well aware that I am under tall trees most of which bear lightning scars, that I have to come into contact with metal fences that are definitely grounded in the damp earth, that I seem to attract lightning like that ribcage was attracting flies, but I was going to have faith, face death, so let it come, I was not going to panic, my heart was not going to race, my butt cheeks were not going to climb into my lower lumbar.
A few spatters of rain hit as I closed the last door and gate-too late to grab the few laundry items on the line, they would get a freshwater rain rinse.
I calmly walked in and shut the back door and the heavens opened up. Thunder has been roaring overhead as I type this, the air full of the smell of ozone. My foot on the slate is tingling. The sky is even making noises like a gigantic door creaking on its hinges.
The Gods smiled upon me and I thank them.
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