A week

It has been a long week of nothing to do and nowhere to go. There was a "somewhere to go"; the end of the week held out mandevillas. 

Last Monday I went grocery shopping. It was very cold, raining off and on. In the parking lot I spied a top down Corvette. Still there when I left. A very brave person.

Years ago I saved a foolproof crostata recipe. It started with a store pie crust, then a simple fruit and sugar filling. Fold the crust around the edges, bake and try to resist eating. The girls never were interested, so finally I got to it.

I made it last two days! I pulled out the sheet and scratched the egg wash and sugar glaze. The crust of a dozen puff pastry shells does not need it. When thawed, I mushed the edges together and rolled and rolled it out. Add filling, pull up edges, and bingo, it's a crostata.

I told myself, make one every time I go shopping, one fruit at a time. Blueberries, peaches, apples, cherries, maybe strawberries.

Nancy called, and I'm OK. I will be far better when I can again see friendly faces. I doubt we will play cards tomorrow. People I could count on, week after week, to be there.

Nancy told me of a series she's fallen into on Netflix, Anne, based solidly on Anne of Green Gables. I remember a PBS series, years and years ago, so I gave it a go.The first time I've watched television since last winter, Grace and Frankie.

The first afternoon I went on through so many episodes of tear jerking. Literally, my handkerchief would hold no more, and I couldn't leave for a Kleenex. Then it was dark outside, after nine. I pressed pause and went to bed. It is totally young adult, quite interesting, at least in a time of compelled isolation. And now I don't need a tissue.

Toward the end of the week I phoned another reliable and asked Jan if she and Tom would help me with mandevillas this weekend. I picked Saturday as the best potential day, and we went across the road to Suncrest Gardens. I returned with three mandevillas and a little begonia to replace the gerbera daisy that spent last winter in the living room.

I think outside now looks as if I live here:

The glass dancer who came cross country from Ellen Abbott's side yard in Texas floats serenly  in space.

Mandevilla, white, pink and red, survey the neighborhood.

My wonderful water lily from a sculptor in Michigan overlooks all.

The old crew is in place. A pot of ranunculus in front of Pig, growing to bloom.

A great pot of two small anemone in bloom and so many unknown bulbs, waiting to burst.

I can enjoy from my window. So can the cat.