So, we're well into July now, and it's hot, we celebrated the 4th in our own ways, and now, we just endure until Labor Day.
I know that sounds bleak, but it feels a little bleak. I really, really, really want a watermelon from the Farmers Market - but the challenge is Covid-19. I don't want to get it, be near people who have it, unwittingly spread it... you get the idea.
But honestly, the veg at Kroger is just nothing compared to what I can get at the Farmers Market - so maybe I'll brave it early on Saturday. For starters, I have a Red Cross blood donation Saturday at 8AM, and I could pop by briefly just to pick up a few tomatoes and a melon. In, out.
I don't know - there's been a spike. I spent the 4th with people though - people I know, and for the most part trust - but that doesn't mean anything. The virus doesn't know if you're worthy or not. The virus doesn't care.
Meanwhile, our country is still an emotional powder keg - race relations are strained, though confederate statues seem to be falling of their own accord recently.
To that end, I removed a framed item from the wall at our cabin in the mountains. It was a front page of a Confederate newspaper that my father put up before I can even remember. I don't know why it was significant, but I decided that times change, and decor can too. I put it in a closet, told Mom I'd done it, and if she finds it compelling, she can use it elsewhere. But I can't talk about how woke I am and keep that up in our cabin. It's possible that there's a reason he liked it - maybe there was an advert for his family's dry-goods store. My father is a Rich. The Rich family owned a department store in Atlanta, and it was a big deal. Rich's existed until the early 2000s. It was a thing. If you lived in Atlanta, you knew Rich's. They had a tea room, and a bakery with the best coconut cakes on the planet. It was fancy and beautiful. The Rich brothers were Jewish Hungarian immigrants. My grandfather was the Vice President of the Store for Homes. He had a good eye and great taste. I have some of his stuff that proves it. China, linens, furniture.
My father had the eye, too. So did my Aunt Mary. I'd like to think I have a little of the eye. I can put together a pretty table, I know colors and fabrics. Sure, my house looks like a laundromat next to a Home Depot exploded - but that's more about my ability to clean, and our lack of usable storage space than my taste.
I would like to think I can put together a cute outfit, but honestly - I haven't had to wear anything special in months. I did have a cute little sundress for the 4th of July - but I haven't seen any pictures of me in it, so I may look like a Macy's float in it. Who can say?
What I did notice from some recent pictures is that I need to wear things that are more fitted - t shirts, in particular. I would also benefit from more tailoring in general.
Of course, today I have on shorts and a bleach splattered tank top that's two sizes too small. But I could use a little more self-care, that's for sure!
I am also on the prowl for some material to make a chair cushion. Matt painted our metal glider - he used automotive engine paint - and it's gorgeous - turquoise and shiny - I want a fabric with a little retro feel to use in the porch chair. Wish me luck. Wish me a winning lottery ticket while we're at it.
I found out we're going to need to replace the refrigerator at the cabin. This is not a bad thing. It's got issues, and the biggest one right now is that the fridge part does not run, and is therefore hot, and the freezer is a refrigerator. So, you know - time to go shopping.
I'm contemplating taking a week in August. Going to the cabin for some of it, going to Atlanta for some.
I don't know - everything just feels completely off.
I think tomatoes and watermelon will go a long way in righting the ship.
At least it's a start.
ae
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