I am back in my garden most days now. It’s my shelter-in-place place during the coronavirus crisis, and a place of peace for me.
It’s also where I’ve been rejuvenating my food-growing efforts since I was expecting my departure for Peace Corps Uganda in June to be delayed and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to provide fresh, healthy sustenance to my family (my younger daughter is home from college due to the crisis). If interested, you can see some posts I’ve made recently about that on my other blog for my other book, Food for My Daughters.
I’m Traveling at the Speed of Bike daily, of course, but many times it’s just in my neighborhood due to the dangerous speeds at which drivers are traveling in my suburb-city and my unwillingness to assume the increased risk of being sent to overloaded hospitals as a result of motor vehicle violence (and the city’s failure-to-act to make our streets safer for all). (Note: this post about Kindness Cups got pretty widely shared, so maybe something positive will come of it.)
If I do a few loops up and down each dead-end and around each cul-de-sac, I can string together a couple of miles. It’s not much, but it’s something, and I’ve somehow managed to accumulate more than 100 miles in the month of March that way. (Note: I do occasionally stretch my legs beyond the confines of my small neighborhood to run an essential errand or take on some big nearby hills for added cardio, and that is always with BikeNoodle.)
I got the official word last night that my departure for Uganda is, indeed, delayed. I also found out that older folks (they currently say 65 and up) and those with certain medical issues are on hold permanently, and I wonder if I will ever actually get on that plane to Entebbe International or not. (At 56 and with a clear bill of health, I still stand a chance.)
In the meantime, I ride. And I build. And I plant. And I pray.
And, as always, I trust the journey.