I’ve been semi-laid-up since mid-April when I returned from running (read: ambling) with Roxie and Dolly. While walking down stairs, I heard a very loud “pop” in my left knee. Last week, as an “elective” surgery case, my name came to the top and I have been repaired.

During my confinement I continued to enjoy my sedentary activities, all the while trying not to pout about all the things I could not do.

My big losses were tutoring, choir, gardening, kayaking, walking. However, I was able to assemble my book of poetry and photography from the ’90’s and submit it to the publisher. The draft will be ready for my editing at the end of the month.

I found some open fields where the dogs could run while I sat and watched from the Subaru. Learned a hard lesson there. Sweet Dolly got an abscess from a foxtail in a weedy field. Two surgeries and $1000 later, she is on the mend.

Big gains were keeping in touch electronically with literally everyone, from Zoom meetings with groups to FaceTime appointments with doctors, to playing Scrabble with daughters.

Reading, of course. Both the sublime and the ridiculous. I have researched and sung all the hymns that Dr. Klemme has played. I have written my usual letters to the editor and blogged. I’ve watched birds at my feeders with new intensity.

I did stumble out into the garden a few times; but now that I can get out there more easily, I can see that things carried on just fine without me. My early spring plantings and perennials have flourished unattended.

Not available for photos, the root vegetables — Walla Wallas. onions, beets, and potatoes — are coming along in their underground nests.

Roses, hollyhocks, and magnolias are thriving without any help from me.

“Confined” is a funny word and this spring it assumed many synonyms: housebound, sheltering in place, quarantined. This I know for sure: if I have to be stuck in one place on this earth, 1880 is my first choice.

Now to look online for a recipe for that patty pan squash.