Carrying On

I hope this finds you and your loved ones well. My family has been fine during this stressful time, anxiety a little high but nothing debilitating, and certainly nothing we haven't been able to work through. Still, each day is an exercise in uncertainty, wondering if we are doing enough to keep ourselves and others safe, wondering if our luck will change, and what we will do if that does happen. We recently learned that our boy will not be going back to school next month (we weren't going to send him anyway), and now my husband and I are trying to figure out how we are going to oversee our son's virtual schooling while both of us are working full time. My husband has said that is the main topic of canversation in his workplace, as many of his coworkers are parents to school-age children and both parents are working. It is less of a conversation at my workplace; not so many of us have school-age children, though a handful have school-age grandchildren. Because I work in healthcare I have been working full-time since the pandemic started. My husband and I have been doing our best to maintain separation from potential health risks, but sometimes we just need to be somewhere that isn't home. There have been a couple trips to Target to buy some household supplies and clothes for the ten year old that refuses to stop growing (where has my baby gone???), a stop at Barnes and Noble while on a Target trip to stock up on books, and the usual grocery trips (such an adventure). Recently my husband took our boy to the movies; our local theatre is showing oldies but goodies with very limited seating, so good fun and ample distance was enjoyed by all. A couple weekends ago in a fit of utter cabin fever we rented a campsite not far from home and spent a glorious two days in the woods with no walls, no alarms, no work, and no worries. Summer hasn't felt like summer without a vacation, or even the day trips that we usually do. In fact, I was researching ideas for "field trips" to take my son on while he is doing his remote schooling, because otherwise he's going to be at a computer for four hours a day, every day. I have to get him out doing things, but what to do when museums are closed? Historical walking tours are the next best option: I have a feeling we'll be visiting Historic Deerfield and Walden Pond a lot. Another aspect of this quarantine that really has me discombobulated is the inability to go to the library. My local library has been closed since March. They recently opened for in-house requests and outdoor pick up, but they are not currently doing inter-library loans, and so my Goodreads list languishes (and continues to grow). I'm trying to convince my husband to let me just buy all the books on my list, but he for some reason feels the need to point out that I have a student loan to pay off. Killjoy. Despite summer's end, I am feeling brighter, more hopeful, as we enter September. Perhaps it is simply my love of fall, but there is a feeling of renewal, almost. It is not lost on me that September is host to two New Year's celebrations, Rosh Hashanah and Enkutatash. Other cultures observe the year's change in fall as well, with Samhain at the end of October and Diwali falling in November this year. Perhaps looking at the closing of the warmer days as a beginning is the better approach: the year is beginning with the bounty of the harvest, leading us to abundance, then introspection during the cold months, as we shelter in and plan for the coming spring, where our thoughts and goals will come to fruition as nature reawakens. However we approach fall, the gentle month of September is upon us. Enjoy the warm sunlit days and cooler nights, perfect for hot tea and a light quilt, or a bonfire if you have the space. (I don't, so I go a bit overboard with candles. Preferably apple-scented ones. Or cinnamon. Or both.) September ~ Helen Hunt Jackson The golden-rod is yellow; The corn is turning brown; The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down. The gentian's bluest fringes Are curling in the sun; In dusty pods the milkweed Its hidden silk has spun. The sedges flaunt their harvest, In every meadow nook; And asters by the brook-side Make asters in the brook, From dewy lanes at morning The grapes' sweet odors rise; At noon the roads all flutter With yellow butterflies. By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather, And autumn's best of cheer. But none of all this beauty Which floods the earth and air Is unto me the secret Which makes September fair. 'T is a thing which I remember; To name it thrills me yet: One day of one September I never can forget.