MRB's Talking Fingers

You may not believe this, but you haven’t heard from me this past month because I couldn’t come up with a topic that would be even slightly interesting in a blog. We’ve been staying close to home these days, except for necessary trips to town for groceries and medical appointments. Our favorite dining spots have been closed, except for curbside service, and the food would be cold before we got back home. A treat in town would be a drive-thru for donuts or hamburgers, but eating a meal in our vehicle can get messy. Back home, my husband and I have different “comfort” zones, but both of us have decided that we have no time to be bored. There are too many things that still grab our attention. He spends hours every day in his shop… cleaning, repairing, organizing and building a variety of items in his shop. Living in a rural area gave him space to build a separate building, giving him space to accommodate his two hobbies… vintage telephones and tractors. We’ve been here so many years tha

I have received some wonderful private messages from friends here on The Hill, and other sources. I thought I was giving everyone a “break”, because I’ve been known to be an adamant and frequent user of words, both in live conversations, text messages, emails, and blogs. However, the messages are checking to see if all is well at our patch of land, has our ‘isolation’ become a ‘seclusion’, or have I been distracted by more interesting activities. Well, here comes a ‘deluge’ of words that I’ve been saving up! According to the media, public opinion, and assumed expert advice, my husband and I are in the most vulnerable age group, so we began our voluntary personal isolation in early March, and thankful that we are still able to enjoy rural living. My husband spends many hours each day in his shop… fixing, painting, sorting, rearranging, and sometimes, trashing long preserved items. One never knows when the saved items would be just what is needed, saving a trip to town. He also can have