Out from under Our Rock

Slowly, slowly, slowly, Joyce and I are peeking out from under the rock where we've been sheltering for the past 1000 years (or so it seems)--and, yesterday and today, some actual re-emergence!

As I've written here before, the only ventures outside since all of this began involved (a) picking up our online grocery order at the Acme Fresh Market once a week (we never leave the car), (b) gathering up the newspapers from the driveway each morning (and mail deliveries on the front porch), (c) working in the yard (well, Joyce does that part).

We did go to Seidman Cancer Center a month or so ago so I could get my quarterly injection of Trelstar, the drug that has both saved (for a while) and drastically/permanently altered that life. I have to go again on Monday, too, for some other procedures--but I'll post about that later.

But this week, things have (slowly, as I said) begun to change. Earlier this week I went over to Mickey's Barber Shop to get my several months' accumulation of white hair buzzed off--my first trip there since February 13.

And last evening after supper? A trip to the gas station (where I put gas in our car for the first time since March 1--now that shows you how frequently we've been out!). And then down through the Cuyahoga Valley National Park to Szalay's Farm Market (it was their opening day) to grab some local honey and preserves, some lettuce, and (okay) a couple of peanut-butter cookies.

my back is to you--count your blessings!

All the employees were masked (as we were--we were also armed with sanitary wipes) as were virtually all the customers. Szalay's had also erected Plexiglas barriers to shield the customers from the cashiers. It was not crowded; we had no problems avoiding the unmasked.

We also stopped at the Hudson McD's on the way home for a Diet Coke--something we've not done, again, in months.

And this morning? The best of all! I walked over to my home-away-from-home, Hudson's own Open Door Coffee Company, where I got a carryout coffee (all they're doing right now), saw my "Reserved" sign still on "my" table (even though the tables are not in use as of now), chatted quickly with two of the baristas (I felt myself actually tearing up--Old Guys!). No one else was there at the time.

Walking home, I hit the ATM (I've not done that in months, either), staggered home (oh, my cursed balance issues!), chatted with Joyce, washed/sanitized my hands, heated up a homemade scone, slumped in a chair in the family room and read and ate and sipped great coffee and read and caught up on The New York Times, on email and FB, and sipped great coffee and read and read and read and read. And sipped great coffee.

Sitting there, I felt such a surge of gratitude (and relief) for all this--a surge so overwhelming that I ... use your imagination!