This is the day which the Lord has made; Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24

It felt like Saturday. That is, it felt the way Saturday used to feel when it was a separate day.

It was perfectly sunny and 76 degrees. We planted tomatoes, and I traded extra seedlings with neighbors for a portion of yeast and a face mask. Yeast does not seem to exist in any local grocery. Our neighbors stood on the sidewalk at a respectful distance as I handed out plants. Sweet cherry tomatoes and Sun Golds.

We talked about how our current routines feel like those of a bygone era. This notion is particularly embodied in a tiny neighborhood restaurant and butchery which has created space for essential groceries and farm produce. Its shiny wood plank floors and meat market case make me happy whenever I venture there. 

We talked about pesto made from carrot tops and walnuts. How we are discovering ways to use leftover bits that might have been composted only weeks ago.

We talked about a BBC show in which craftspeople repair clocks and pottery and other family treasures. Each piece comes to the picturesque country shop with a story. 

Today felt relaxed and free of shelter-in-place anxiety. So it seemed only right that we grilled hamburgers for dinner.

Because it felt like the Saturdays we used to have.