This weekend was about doing all of the things.
Within reason, of course. After all, we’re living in the midst of a global pandemic.
We went out for ice cream after Shabbat dinner. (We haven’t done that since the very first Friday ice cream night was declared.)
We went to the pool three mornings, which we would never mobilize ourselves for if it weren’t for COVID-19. (That’s the best time of day for social distancing since very few people want to go from 9:00 – 11:45 a.m.!)
We went out to dinner on Saturday night and enjoyed a bee-free outdoor patio meal.
This afternoon, I took Isabelle to a nursery on the other side of town to buy some ornamental peppers. When we finished shopping, I looked at her and asked, “Would you like to get Rolled Cold?”
“Again?” she asked. After all, we just went there on Friday night. We never go out for ice cream twice in one weekend — unless we’re on vacation.
“Yes, again. It’s the last unofficial day of summer. Why not?”
“Yes!” she replied with a cheer.
We placed our mobile order and drove past Wheatland through Downtown Lancaster to her favorite ice cream shop.
My hips (and thighs and tummy) didn’t need ice cream again today. But, sometimes, you have to find joy. And, often, joy can be found inside of a dish of ice cream. Like it was today.