Google may have cancelled April Fools’ Day, but my silly husband didn’t get the memo. After forty years of him savouring every April 1st, I should have known I could count on him to coax a giggle or two out of me, even in the midst of a pandemic. I can’t remember most of the tricks he’s played over the years, although the one where he duct taped the kids’ bedroom doors shut is hard to forget. I think it was all the scraping and trim repainting required after three kids howling with laughter ripped duct tape from their doors. Or the niggling thought that perhaps partially disabling their exits for a night might have been not quite super safe. But all’s well that ends well and we got a precious family memory out of it too.

This morning when I got up and headed to the kitchen to make coffee, I couldn’t find the kettle. As usual, it took a while for the penny to drop. Ohhhhhh, April 1st.

I finally located it, camouflaged by the cozy we use to keep the bodum hot. I smiled, thinking “of course he couldn’t resist” and feeling relieved that he had been gentle with his trick this year, and I had figured it out so easily. I should have known better.

When the kettle boiled I opened the drawer to grab the coffee, and discovered that, as usual, he wasn’t quite done with pulling my leg. My morning scavenger hunt ended, as so many hunts do, right back where I started. How did he know that when I saw his first note, I’d head off on that wild goose chase, rather than opening the drawer to its full extent to find the coffee canister hiding at the very back? By the time I had the coffee brewing I was giggling hard.

And how did he know that I would next grab my phone, to take some shots so I could share? It took a little bit to get my phone out of the case it sat in backwards, so I could use it. “I wonder if he’s done yet?” I thought. Again as usual, I will spend the rest of the morning warily living my usual routine, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Well, I did marry him because he made me laugh. And forty years later, I’m still chuckling. ❤️ Happy April Fool’s everyone!

Way back in 2017 when life was, y’know, normal, I wrote down the stray thoughts that ran through my head as I prepared Thanksgiving dinner. I shared my resulting interior monologue, calling it “Thankful For Ordinary.”

Re-reading this blog post today really cheered me up. Made me grateful that I lived that day, and happy that I didn’t take it for granted. “Good job!” I congratulated myself, “you didn’t squander what you were given.”

I need cheering up too. Because life these days is too eventful. On the one hand, it’s kind of awe-inspiring to be living now. To be a part of history in the making. Even though it’s dreadful history that’s being made, and a little terrifying.

So, to cope with it all,  I’m working hard at finding my balance, as I have had to do many times before in my life. Like when my first newborn was critically ill, and numerous times since, as my family has faced serious illness and injury, and yes, death. As we all must do each time life throws a challenge in our laps.

Thank goodness, I’ve gotten better at life in my 58 years of practice. It’s just life. We get thrown in, and we swim. Or we sink. Swimming is better.

I find my balance by staying informed. Not soaking up every bit of news, not marinating in the hyperbole, the hysteria. Instead, I ration it, listening to a full, balanced newscast once or maybe twice a day. I educate myself, heeding the words of my government and public health professionals. I ignore the unreliable voices, checking the source of every interesting headline before I plunge into the content, refusing to consume the garbage. I safeguard my mental health along with my physical health.

I cook ordinary meals, wholesome food, for my family, temporarily expanded this week to include a couple big city refugees.  I keep busy. I work at home, so that hasn’t changed, and I have plenty of chores and projects to keep me busy too. I appreciate my family, and my dog, and my barnyard, and my beloved muddy valley.

And I glean what pleasure I can from the experiences this pandemic is beginning to bring. Like the brave Italians singing out their windows. And my coworker’s really good animated short film about social distancing. And the many stories of people helping people. And like the long distance phone call I got yesterday, just to catch up, from a dear cousin who temporarily walked away from her social media accounts last week. Long distance phone calls are vintage social media and happily far more affordable today than they were back when they were the only game in town. My cousin is doing what she must to find her own balance as she faces dual challenges, working in our beleaguered Alberta’s oil patch plus Covid-19. It was good to hear her cheery, spunky voice.

But what works best for me, is just being thankful for ordinary. There is still plenty of ordinary around, I have to look a little harder for it is all. And make sure I appreciate it wherever I find it. As I try to remember what my Dad always says when trouble strikes. This too shall pass.