A new week.  Hanging in there.  I made one of those shredded potato, cheese, sour cream, sausage, etc. breakfast casseroles three weeks ago--before I was thinking future eating on such an extended big scale--and cut it into 24 squares, wrapped them in "Saran" wrap (cheap wrap substitute) and froze them.

So...I'll have breakfast for awhile.  Along with French toast and egg omelets.

For a year or so, when I cooked, I froze three fourths of it.  So my fridge is full of things to eat.  Single helpings.  I'm stocked.

Only thing missing is people to eat it with.  I miss that a lot.  

Pat came over yesterday to fix my Mac.  I put a folding chair,  a can of Lysol, some hand disinfectant and a rag on the front porch and she sat out there and fixed my computer.  She had been in crowds the last week judging horse shows and riding in competition so she didn't want to take a chance on coming in where I was.  Everyone is trying to protect me.  At 82 (Birthday this Thursday the 26'th) they think I need to be careful.  I have been, and will be.

Ruiz, my lawn man, came yesterday and blew away all the oak leaves and mowed my lawn for the first time of the season.   People in those kinds of jobs are probably short.  I asked him if he would like cash and he grinned.  He usually bills me at the end of the month. 

People have been calling for weeks as the redbuds start to bloom in their neck of the woods, to sing "Happy Birthday."  My birthday is the time of year they bloom, and though nobody remembers the day, they are always reminded when the redbud trees pop out pink.   That's a wonderful thing.