Nicole planted flowers, and I was unsuccessful in trying to install a Wi-Fi adapter on her school computer. I did finish reading a book and write a little bit about Little Richard, who passed. I worry Jerry Lee Lewis will not survive the pandemic.
Driving to the bank and a curbside restaurant pickup and back, we speculated nerve-wrackingly about what the fall semester at our schools will look like. None of the possibilities look anything less than difficult and risky. The speculation was ended temporarily by margaritas and a Dave Chappelle stand-up special.
The day marked our 30th year together, and I’m happy to report we still have fun hanging out even if it isn’t fireworks, beaches, Ferris wheels, and party buses every day. We can be next to each other, content in silence, and address the routines and rituals with commitment and sometimes a zen-like pleasure. Even when sifting kitty litter and picking up dog poop.
I just realized that yesterday I didn’t write about the day before, which is what I do with these–I got excited by our anniversary and forgot. Friday, May 8, will hereafter be known as “The Day ‘Cloister Commentary’ Went Dark.” I already can barely remember what we did, so I suspect, dear reader, you didn’t miss much.
Streaming for Shut-Ins:
Happy Mother’s Day. Behold the humble mastery of one of American music’s most vaunted mothers (though whoever was supposed to proofread the album cover graphics was asleep on the job).