Yesterday was a busy day – 80 degrees and very humid. We tag-team mowed the front lawn, then dragged four tarps-full of debris across the property to that place near the shed that I never photograph. Then we donned masks, etc., and drove to the post office where I had two packages to pick up – dear friends who sent me packages, I now have them, though I haven’t opened them yet as I usually wait a couple of days to open them in these times. Then we drove to Lowes where I had to pick up an online order of a new watering can and two pruners. Lowes was incredibly busy; in fact, I heard an employee say it was the busiest it has been since lockdown started. Then we drove to the shop where we order chocolates – slightly decadent, though to us, an essential item. The only sweet I eat is this shop’s sugar-free chocolates. We had ordered via the phone. When you arrive, you call them and let them know you’re outside and they put the bag on a bench outside the door. No contact.

The only snag was this. There is only one person allowed in the counter area of our post office at a time. Somehow, though I was initially the only person in the post office box area which is a separate room, there ended up being three of us in there at one time. Thankfully, we were all masked and the brief moment when we numbered three was just that, about two seconds. Our little post office is incredibly small as this is a very small town. That’s why I avoid going there for long periods of time during this lockdown. Still and all, everyone in Lowes was wearing a mask. Everyone at the post office was wearing a mask. I did see some young idiots walking around town maskless, and – get this – a young father pushing a stroller down the street and neither father or child were wearing masks. But the vast majority of people I saw were wearing masks.

Anyway, at the end of it all we were exhausted; physically because of the outdoor work, emotionally because of the stress involved with running any kind of errand these days. Once again, washing hands, disinfecting doorknobs and purchases, washing hands again, showering.

Today it is supposed to rain and we’re staying home. Unfortunately, Don has just talked me in to cutting his hair with a pair of clippers he is borrowing from Rick. I told him he can’t blame me for whatever the end result is. The exchange? He will trim my hair – and by that I mean whack about four inches off – when I order a pair of hair cutting scissors. I cannot abide how long my hair is!

Let’s hope this doesn’t send us to Divorce Court.

Okay. This arrived the other day:

One of my bookseller contacts (via Instagram) has a bookshop in Ironbridge, Shropshire, England, and she sells a lot of vintage Penguins. I knew there was a vintage Penguin edition of To Kill a Mockingbird   that was issued within a a few years of its first publication in 1960 and I asked her to keep an eye out for it. Sure enough, a copy came into her hands and she messaged me. And here it is! This fits in two collections, my collection of various editions of my favorite novel and in my Penguin collection, as well!

Then, another bookseller – Maureen of Fine Preservers Books in Ithaca, NY – sent me a message. She remembered that I had asked her to let me know of any Tri Band Penguin editions of P. G. Wodehouse that might come into her possession. Sure enough, one had. And here it is:

Wodehouse is truly the funniest writer that ever lived. Don and I sat on the sofa this morning and I read a few pages aloud and we couldn’t stop laughing. Don knows far more about Wodehouse than I do, but I’m going to remedy that.

Wish me luck on the – gulp – haircut.

Stay safe.

Happy Saturday.