Covid Couch Calls

I feel a fondness flowing over me, like the scent of chocolate chip cookies at Grandma’s, the kind one’s house, not the scary one.

It’s a song by the Decemberists that transports me. Down memory lane to early Covid, to my rebellious non-adopting mask self, and to being locked up with a never-satisfied newborn and a new working-from-home husband. 

Without the life I knew, days ran into each other, and highlights came from seeing lawn cuttings or tree prunings from our neighborhood evening strolls. Also taking center stage were lunchtime couch plop downs to see musicians stageless, streaming at home by phone, stripped to just them and a guitar.

I loved these intimate concerts and my connection to humanity during them.  

Waxahatchee, a singer I didn’t know prior, had such an impact her vinyl now spins ’round our record player. And Colin Meloy, the lead singer of the Decemberists, a band I’ve seen twice in concert, was so genuine and consistent in these free weekly or bi-weekly sit-downs, to this day, I want to take his hands into mine and thank him for showing up how he did.

May I tangent? Bi-weekly. In checking the word’s definition, it says “occurring every two weeks” AND “occurring twice a week.” What?! I’ve always thought it was fishy and tip-toed around it, and now I know why. The same is true for bi-monthly – every two months or twice a month. 

Boo to language; I will create new words. From henceforward, twice a week is bi-weekly, and week-dub-lay is every two weeks.

There. Solved.

And don’t be alarmed. I did come around to the mask-wearing thing. 

That does it for me tonight; thanks for coming down memory lane. Now onto ice cream, Spanish word learning, and more writing before bed. 

Take care. Love, Jaclynn

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