Don’t be fooled by the idyllic title here…it’s #SocialDistancing activity #1. Using some ingredients I had planned for, and some I had already possessed in my kitchen pantry, I whipped up three dozen beautiful buttermilk biscuits. Other than the terribly frightening spread of Coronavirus, which is dominating the news and my mind, this actually was a pretty idyllic day. Over coffee and even a pot of tea, my mom and I worked together on some lesson plans for school (virtual, of course) and enjoyed some fresh-outta-the-oven buttermilk biscuits. The recipe is from The Magnolia Table.

It doesn’t feel like a Sunday…it feels like a non-day. The days have melted together…creating a weird, massive block of time that is characterized by its own undefinedness…this is life in Coronavirus. Work has been postponed (thankfully), social gatherings are a HUGE no no, and the little luxuries like the Starbucks Drive Thru or popping into the gym are now, for the most part, banned. I am willingly following along with the new rules, and I gape at the people who feel compelled to ignore it. To me, my car is not yet off-limits, so we drove around yesterday just to get out. Stretch the eyes and just be out of the house. I was shocked to see valet service at crowded restaurants, people sitting in booths at the pizzerias, hoards of people at the liquor store. I mean, I was terrified to get GAS! Which I did (and felt very ashamed about). There really is a contagious effect of seeing masses of people out there. The thought hits you, oh, if they’re doing it, I can. But see, I shouldn’t. And that’s why I won’t. The key is you need 100% all hands on deck with a task like this, and that is individual discipline to not participate or partake in the usual activities to which we are all quite accustomed. Giving up my daily luxuries is step 1 of the process. I do worry about groceries and the state of things within the next few weeks, like the rest of us are. When it comes to panicking….to be blunt, I am sick of worrying about shortages and the economy and whether or not life will go on. I know that we are living in history, which is pretty cool, but in the present it feels like this block of undefined time is very ominous and foreboding.

Anyway…back to biscuits. And luxuries. Are fresh, hot biscuits not a luxury? Is the memory-making experience of a morning spent baking with one’s mother not a luxury? In looking at these photos, this is precious. Well, I felt like I was using a forbidden, rationed list of ingredients (three sticks of butter)!. Anyway, they turned out beautifully, if not a little crisp on the bottom (re: burnt). I packed up a few and sent them home with mom, after washing my hands of course. So, I guess it did indeed, feel idyllic. I was wearing my great-grandmother’s apron, for God’s sake. And my golden retriever puppy was keeping us company. It was perfectly simple. Countryside. Even a dash of European.

Simple is the new norm now. We’d better get used to it. And this might sound callous, given all of the suffering and fear and panic out there - but maybe we all need this simpler time. Maybe we need to pause, to hunker down, to reflect and reprioritize what we really need. Maybe we need to all slow down, and just made three dozen biscuits (if we can).