With the television on, we’re connected to what’s going on in the world. The beauty of peaceful demonstrations, damaged by looters taking advantage of the rage felt by others. And then there’s our ridiculous president, in another world altogether , posing with a bible, spouting off drivel.
It dawns on me how this racial unrest might be affecting those in our family, our son-in-law, our grandkids, a niece and 2 nephews, who are people of color. I wonder how different their lives are from ours each day, how, because of their skin color, even in this day and age, they might be discriminated against. I imagine that their parents had to coach them at a young age, about the possibility of some people looking at them in a different way. Such a shame.
And then, I go outside of our condo in the woods at Lake Tahoe, and throw out shelled peanuts and birdseed to my squirrels and bluejays and doves. The baby squirrels are the cutest, and they don’t skitter away from me as quickly, and bravely get close to climb up on the rock I have next to their water bowl.
Yesterday I shopped for more plants at the nursery close by that is finally daring to open. I planted some delphiniums and some creeping petunias where there is already water coming out of the sprinkler system.
We ventured over to Goodwill, which just opened last week, to try to find a Dutch oven, which I did. It’s huge and ceramic, and I thought would be perfect for the recipe for high altitude crusty artisan French bread. It was. I set the timer on my phone for each time the dough needed to raise, or “proof”. The loaf turned out golden and crunchy on the outside and perfect on the inside. We spread lots of soft butter on slices, and considered it dessert. Doug is very happy that I’ve gone back to my cooking of the 70’s. Evidently I’m not the only one. Flour and yeast are hard to find.
So here we sit, writing, gardening, doing jigsaw puzzles, removed from what I suppose is the “real world”. But wait…..maybe this IS the real world. Only thing is….I can breathe. Others can’t.