© 2020 Donna Hébert. All rights reserved.
In day eight of quarantine after entering Nova Scotia, my oppositional two-year-old self says “why do we have to just SIT here when we both feel FINE?” and my rational senior self says, “yes, you’re uncomfortable stuck here when you can hear the cars driving by and they’re GOING places. It’s only 6 more days. You’ll survive. Find something else to think about.”
Bob is doing all the yard-tidying he would have been doing in May and June, pushing the wheelbarrow and pruners from one clump of bushes to another.. He’ll come in soon – even with a breeze it’s in the mid-80s, 30C. Me, I have pretty much spit-shined the kitchen and am considering ordering the five pound box of blueberries from the co-op and some new jar lids, pectin, and 4 kilos of sugar and making jam first thing tomorrow morning before it gets too hot. Then again, if it’s too hot, do I really want to make jam? We have plenty of pint jars and screw tops here. In Athol we use them as drinking glasses but then mason jars are multipurpose containers.
We are experimenting with managing the coolness of the house without air conditioning. Fact is I breathe better without it. One of the blessings of this being an island is that there is always a breeze. If we open the windows and shady side-doors, we can keep air flowing through the house. It stays cool during the day and once the sun moves over the house, we open another door for air flow through what Bob and Jay called the Ceilidh room. I look forward to the time when we can fill the room with people again and play music. Till then, we have two porches, one that’s screened and I can play music on both of them with Bob. I think we’ll survive a few more days dreaming of the music to come!