The way I tend to think of the seasons, September 1 is the first day of autumn, December 1 the first day of winter, March 1 the first day of spring, and June 1 the first day of summer.
So, yesterday was the first day of autumn, and I looked back over the summer and realized that I spent the entire summer at home, in the house.
I’m not complaining, understand: I didn’t have to go anywhere, so there was no real reason for me to leave the house.
And yes, while it might have been nice to go out just for the heck of it, the fact is I really got kind of used to it.
We can get food delivered from a couple of restaurants in the neighborhood, or Mary doesn’t mind going out to get food from the ones that don’t deliver.
She does most of the outside stuff, like going to the store, and has a couple of friends she meets, so when she’s finished with them, she orders something for me and carries it home.
If the Covid-19 boogeyman ever goes away (and it looks like it’ll be with us at least until November of next year), and there are actually places to go that have real unmasked people in them, I’ll get out then, and if not, I’ll get out when I have a medical appointment.
Right now, the next appointment I have is on the 20th, to have my teeth cleaned, and maybe we’ll stay out and go somewhere for lunch or something afterward, maybe a Frappuccino.
Or maybe not…