June is probably my favorite month in Utah. As I begin my walks, my favorite spot is just down the street where the air is fragrant from flowers I cannot see or name. I wish my life always smelled like this. Jasmine? The neighbors have really done a beautiful job this year with their yards. I walk for miles now through the streets, but haven’t ventured to the trails. My phone messages are adorned by photos of Richard and the boys hiking. “Wish you were here…”
This evening, I worked up the courage to knock on some doors to talk to friends in person. It took all day to make myself do this, as I am so out of practice being a human being. I decided to bake bread, a trusty excuse for a hand delivery, only I accidentally turned off the oven mid-baking for about 15 minutes. With the intensity of a contestant on the Great British Baking Show, I reheated the oven, covered the tops with foil, and continued to bake until they “plunked” when I hit them with my finger.
Some questions remain: How many people have I overlooked during my haze? I feel I owe people an apology for not being “around,” even for texting or phonecalls. And, how can I find another excuse to knock on more friends’ doors? Because those socially distanced, in-person conversations on doorsteps were so good for me.