Coronatine

Coronaroutine on an average Tuesday evening:

Farmer calls to let us know from a safe distance that he's delivered a box of fresh dates and figs straight from the Jordan Valley to our door.

Wait a few minutes, throw on a mask in case I meet my neighbours (who never smiled back even in pre-mask days) and discover that we also have a box of olive oil, natural dried pineapple and oatmeal from another local supplier. Today's online grocery shop.

Loud animated chatter and laughter from our big son's room. He's on a zoom to his class and some non-school friends with a football themed Kahoots activity he designed.

The littlest kids are outside building an airport for two massive polystyrene gliders under the guidance of our middle son, riding his bike around them in circles and calling out advice and critiques.

On the dining room table there are a bunch of upside down boxes with assorted painted canvases drying on them. The kids have gotten in to painting mandalas and we are turning in to a craft workshop. They did a batch last week for a relative's birthday. This week they've made us a welcome sign for the front door, name signs for their rooms and a couple of random designs.

In the lounge I am working through a massive pile of laundry DH has just taken in from drying racks outside. Every so often mid kid dashes in with his arms outstretched in forklifter mode to deliver a stack of folded clothes to the relevant bedroom. "Special laundry delivery service coming through" Then he is back outside again to check on the airport construction project.

In the kitchen there is not a banana bread or sourdough loaf in sight. We do have home roasted peanuts, several melons of different varieties and copious quantities of peaches, plums and cucumbers though. Yesterday's farmer's market delivery. The kids are making swift work of it all.

DH is working at the table while a few chairs over our oldest is joining a zoom rehearsal for a community musical that earlier this year had been planned to be staged early this June/July. Performance date is now anyone's guess but the team continue with spirited online rehearsals. This evening's song seems particularly appropriate. I don't know if we're "growing success" but we did plant a new rose bush last week and it is flowering.

Every bursted bubble has a glory!
Each abysmal failure makes a point!
Every glowing path that goes astray,
Shows you how to find a better way.
So every time you stumble never grumble.
Next time you’ll bumble even less!
For up from the ashes, up from the ashes, grow the roses of success!
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses of success!
Oh yes!
Grow the roses!
Those rosy roses!
From the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success!
(spoken)Yes I know but he wants it to float. It will!
For every big mistake you make be grateful!
Here, here!
That mistake you’ll never make again!
No sir!
Every shiny dream that fades and dies,
Generates the steam for two more tries!
(Oh) There’s magic in the wake of a fiasco!
Correct!
It gives you that chance to second guess!
Oh yes!
Then up from the ashes, up from the ashes grow the roses of success!
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses of success!
Grow the roses!
Those rosy roses!
From the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success!
Disaster didn’t stymie Louis Pasteur!
No sir!
Edison took years to see the light!
Right!
Alexander Graham knew failure well; he took a lot of knocks to ring that
bell!
So when it gets distressing it’s a blessing!
Onward and upward you must press!
Yes, Yes!
Till up from the ashes, up from the ashes grow the roses of success.
Grow the ro
Grow the ro
Grow the roses!
Grow the ro
Grow the ro
Grow the roses!
Grow the roses of success!
Grow the ro
Grow the ro
Grow the roses!
Those rosy ro
Those rosy ro
Those rosy roses!
From the ashes of disaster, grow the roses of success!
Start the engines!
Success!
Batten the hatches!
Success!
Man the shrouds!
Lift the anchor!
Success!