The boys and I are now in Day Three of sorta-quarantine. My daughter has the flu, and is quarantining with my ex, who has COVID. My condo is the “House of Bro,” and the boys are healthy and enjoying their surprise Dad-cation.

These things just come out of nowhere sometimes. That’s life, and you make the best of it. I had hoped to have my father up to visit next weekend, or to take the kids to him, but that can’t happen now.

But at least we were prepared, enough to make the necessary adjustments on the fly. I was never a Boy Scout (interpret that both figuratively and literally), but I have a similar motto to their “Be Prepared” which describes preparation.

“Look Fastball, and Adjust.”

That’s what we say in baseball. The idea being that if you’re looking for slow junk, and the fastball comes, it’ll blow you away. But if you look fastball, and the slow stuff comes, maybe you have time to adjust. Prepare now for the contingency that you can’t prepare for later.

I’m not sure what the writing equivalent is for that. I wish I had an adage to say in lieu of just grumbling to myself about being too busy or too distracted to write.

I guess the last week or two, I’d been looking forward to swatting some homeruns. Then life threw me a curve. This little essay is me waiting on it, slapping it to right, and settling for a single, because this pitcher just isn’t giving up the longball today.