Y'all. It's been four months since the U.S.A. admitted there was a problem, since I got sent home with my laptop and my oversized monitor.

I feel like I should record this for posterity, but what to say?

I have never in my lifetime donned a mask, homemade or otherwise, for any reason other than sanding drywall. Now, a mask is slung around my gear shift of my car, and I have an entire kitchen drawer dedicated to PPE.

I'm making choices about whether to allow the little angel to work (masked) and attend school (masked) versus struggle with online schooling not up to par with her level of learning.

I'm trying -- really hard -- to also remember what it feels like to be sixteen.

She has very few of the freedoms I had at that age.

I also want to observe, in this moment, what feels good:

• Sweating out a 90-degree run on my front steps
• Jumping into a pool on a hot summer day
• Letting the breeze hit the soles of your feet
• A deer making eye contact as they graze in the gloaming
• The nose flare of a horse who is thirsty seconds before you lift the water bucket to its lips
• The satisfaction of a barn cat who seldom is granted human touch
• Snapping a cover on a pontoon after a beautiful summer afternoon
• Saving a powerpoint that's been months in the making
• Reflecting on a book that hasn't yet been written 
• Asking yourself what is left on your list even if this pandemic shrinks your timeframe

I spend a lot of time hoping me and mine don't perish in this pandemic. I hope you and yours don't, either. I guess none of us know.