Is anyone besides me struggling with the days of the week lately.
A long string of Tuesdays and Sundays seem to be what I’m experiencing.
Most days feel exactly the same as any other random Tuesday. I get up, have coffee and knit while I plan my day. Play a game or two on my phone, the dog at my side. Then it’s off to feed and water and check the gardens before the heat of the day sets in.
Then there are the Sundays. When my kids show up to help and my day is planned times 3 or 4 and lists are divided and conquered. These Sundays are also full of food and laughter.
I love my Tuesdays and my Sundays. I could live like this quite comfortably I think.
Honestly, not a lot has changed for me other than spontaneity. There are no lunch dates out with my husband and grocery trips are strategically planned based on what is on hand and what we can easily acquire. That husband of mine that used to travel frequently is home as well and he is the designated pick up guy. In my head he’s off hunting for wild game to feed the family. The reality is it’s just the grocery store during a pandemic. Often things like toilet paper seem really elusive. Like that big buck that appears daily to eat your plants but is nowhere to be found during hunting season.
We managed to get everything in the ground that we’re planting this year and for now it’s just a matter of 
keeping up with the weeds and watching the lambs grow bigger and the wool grow longer. It’s a time of year full of long days and the change of season brings me renewed energy. Some nights I choose to stay up late and knit. My sweet dog at my side.
These are days I will always treasure. My eyesight still “good enough” and my hands still able to hold some fine yarn and maneuver double point needles.
I look forward to the next Sunday. Which might be today or maybe tomorrow or maybe both. Who really knows any more?