“I know also,” said Candide, “that we must cultivate our garden.” “You are right,” said Pangloss, “for when man was first placed in the garden of Eden, he was put there ut operaretur eum, that he might cultivate it; which shows that man was not born to be idle.” “Let us work,” said Martin, “without disputing; it is the only way to render life tolerable.” The whole little society entered into this laudable design, according to their different abilities. Their little plot of land produced plentiful crops. Cunegonde was, indeed, very ugly, but she became an excellent pastry cook; Paquette worked at embroidery; the old woman looked after the linen. They were all, not excepting Friar Giroflée, of some service or other; for he made a good joiner, and became a very honest man. Pangloss sometimes said to Candide: “There is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds: for if you had not been kicked out of a magnificent castle for love of Miss Cunegonde: if you had not been put into the Inquisition: if you had not walked over America: if you had not stabbed the Baron: if you had not lost all your sheep from the fine country of El Dorado: you would not be here eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts.”
“All that is very well,” answered Candide, “but let us cultivate our garden.”
That is the concluding paragraph of Voltaire’s book Candide: or, The Optimist and Candide.
That is my feeling at the moment, with one small caveat. I would replace the meal they had “eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts.” with eating my recently most favorite food, rhubarb chutney made by Debbie from our homegrown rhubarb brewed up somehow with vinegar and spices, and my personally created Chuckie-butter chopped (not stirred) blend of 45% butter, 45% sunflower butter, and olive oil. These things spread over a thick well-toasted multi-nut bread are fantastic.
I do cultivate my garden and here in Bend, Oregon at 3,600-foot altitude, that means starting my garden in my south-facing window by mid-March.

I coped with the snow problem seen under the fence by planting 70 quarts of dirt in yogurt containers in my south window.
My pleasantly ordinary life is punctuated with gardening, conversations, and trying to outsmart Covid.