We got back from our one-night birthday celebration in Vermont today, it was a lovely, quiet, peaceful time. The inn only accepts a few people and all of us eat outside at widely spaced tables.

There were 14 guests at the inn, on weekends twice as many.

There is no maid service and payment is arranged in advance. When we checked in, we filled out a lengthy healthy department form about any symptoms or trips.

The inn checked the county where we lived to make sure the coronavirus diagnosis count was below 5 percent (in our county, it’s below one percent.)

When we left, we just left the keys in the room as instructed, left the door open, and got into our car. While we were moved about the inn, we were asked to wear masks all the time except when we were eating.

I live on a farm, social distancing is the norm in our community. I find I miss the small social interactions with people – greetings at the front desk, staff who will stop to chat.

I take these restrictions seriously. I know I am risking, and I surely know I don’t want to harm anyone else. The things being asked of me are simple and small, the consequences of not doing them very big.

It is painful to see the ignorance and the rage on the loose in our country. It is also uplifting to see how many people are caring for and about one another and trying to do the right thing.

Human beings are not simple creatures. American human beings seem especially complicated.

Everyone in the inn, including the wait staff, wore masks all the time. We ate breakfast indoors this morning, there was only one other couple in the room.

The food was excellent, last night and tonight. The staff all knew it was a birthday visit, but nobody came and sang to me or gave me a cake with a candle, which I appreciated.

The innkeeper wished me a happy birthday as we passed in the lobby.

The atmosphere was unusual, but not tense. Everyone had a sense of humor about the restrictions and protections. I certainly won’t complain or balk about them, I appreciate them and I am eager to stay well and infect no one.

Maria is giving my birthday gift tomorrow, but I got a peek at it – a beautiful blue ceramic bowl I can use for the gourmet popcorn I like to make. Maria is the best gift I will ever receive.

This weekend, I am thinking of all the parents and teachers who have difficult decisions to make. I wish them (and the Bishop Maginn High School kids) well.

We have helped to make them as safe as possible and bought every single thing the state health department or the CDC has recommended.

In a sense, this brief trip was the new normal.

On our morning walk, I saw this arresting mural of shorn sheep (we both thought they were goats but were told otherwise)  leaving a barn. I liked the originality of it.