I had an odd feeling this morning as I was walking the dog - what if this very necessary social distancing begins to tear the social fabric of our country?
I was contemplating my weekly trip to Publix and thinking a little negatively - do I really want to be around all those people? - and it came to me that my usual extroverted personality is taking on a bit of a paranoid tinge. And maybe that's a problem. How hard will it be to get back to whatever passes for normal in 21st century America?
I see notices on Facebook asking for volunteers to help with food distribution to school kids, and I wonder about programs like Meals on Wheels. In our community, a large number of the Meals on Wheels volunteers are retirees. Selfishly, I am not willing to step up to help these people, and this is so not-me it makes me blush. I see calls from nursing homes who are desperate for temporary employees; what will happen to those residents, all of whom are loved by their families?
This issue is far more complex than just a simple directive to stay at home. We may be keeping the curve flattened, but by flattening it we are lengthening it also - that's just simple physics. How long will we have to stay put?
SO - the trip to Publix proved to be just what I needed. I got such a kick out of talking to people - the produce guy, the bakery clerk, the cashier - and exchanged many a head-shake with fellow shoppers, particularly on the paper goods aisle. Why would people hoard tissues? I'm figuring we can all use up that toilet paper stash to blow our noses.
I also learned something about how Publix is shifting their algorithm a bit. I had minced garlic on my shopping list - you know, the stuff that comes in a little jar, made for lazy cooks like me. Absolutely no garlic of any kind was to be had. So I asked the produce guy, and he told me that they have shifted their deliveries to reflect what seems to be in highest demand (and I guess garlic didn't make the cut) and they have cleared the shelves to make room for more of these items. He also said they have a truck coming in every other day, so I can check back on Sunday.
And that's my big outing for today. I'll chat with colleagues in an afternoon video conference about issues surrounding our nonprofit programs, and I will (in complete defiance of everything) get a pedicure this afternoon. Tomorrow the mobile dog groomer will come. And Sunday the ladies on our block are getting together for an outside gathering just to chat - bring your own wine.
It's just a sign of the times to reflect on how much I look forward to these contacts with others!
Friday, March 20, 2020
Thursday, March 19, 2020
Pandemic 2020 Daily Journal - Days 1 through 5, March 14-19, 2020
Having recently read a suggestion for schoolchildren that they journal during the pandemic quarantine, primarily so they would have a record of this experience that might amuse them in later years, I decided that the idea of a day-by-day record might not be a bad one for us old folks, too. So I will endeavor to record some thoughts every day going forward.
For today, I will look back a few days, beginning with Saturday, March 14, which marks the first day that we felt as though we should retreat a bit into our home and possibly stay here.
On Saturdays, Mike and I typically go out for lunch. We did this when we were working full-time and the habit has just hung on. Being creatures of habit, we mostly go to Sonny's barbecue restaurant, and don't vary our meal choices much. (Probably the best way to describe us is extreme creatures of habit.) So we did just that, discovering that Sonny's seemed pretty normal. We swung by Ace Hardware afterward, picked up a pair of pruning shears, and headed home. Then we did something very unusual - we actually went out into the backyard and used the pruning shears. It was hot, and normally we wouldn't have done anything after lunch but sit, but these are weird times. The shocker: no sports on TV. Mike is reduced to watching a replay of the TPC golf championship from 2019.
Sunday, March 15: Mike plays golf, as usual. I read. I nap. Mike comes home, watches last year's final round of the TPC (spoiler alert: Rory McElroy still won). We love our Sunday night TV schedule, and found ourselves glued to "60 Minutes" with its fascinating Covid-19 story. (For future readers, this is the official name of the virus that is sweeping the world and finally - finally - causing some panic in the U.S.)
Monday, March 16: Things are getting serious. My calendar for the week has emptied. Meetings and appointments are canceled; my inbox is full of emails canceling events and meetings throughout the remainder of the month, all of April, and some in May. Last Friday, the 13th, was the final school day before spring break; now we learn that schools are closed for spring break and beyond, with colleges facing no more classes this academic year. We begin to worry about our adult children and their school-age children; how will they cope? And with a son and daughter-in-law in the healthcare field, that worry is on overtime.
Tuesday, March 17: St. Patrick's Day. Primary election day in Florida. We voted early, a week and a half ago, and are concerned that those who didn't take that opportunity might decide against voting altogether. Results in the evening seem to bear this out - turnout is down 15 percent from four years ago. I put corned beef and cabbage in the crockpot. Our yard guy shows up and we have a long conference - suddenly I have thoughts about things to do in the yard and spend the afternoon trying to keep Trudy from having a coronary from so much barking at Yard Guy in the back yard and on the deck.
Wednesday, March 18: This morning I go into the yard, determined to clean up some things. These are nuisance invaders in the azaleas (little oak trees with nowhere else to go) and entirely too much leaf and straw buildup around the foundations of our home. I work for an hour and am exhausted - and sweaty. The irony of the best weather for spring break in at least ten years while everyone is staying home and trying to "flatten the curve" is not lost on me. (Future reader: "flattening the curve" means staying home and trying to lessen the inevitable spike in infections. We read the news from Italy with horror as their death toll approaches that of China. The difference in size of population of those two countries is stark. We note also that Italy has the oldest population in Europe and almost everyone smokes. This is small comfort.) A delight: phone calls from two of the grandchildren, courtesy of their thoughtful mom. We miss them.
And that brings us to today, Thursday, March 19, when we will experience the equinox at 11:50 p.m., the earliest equinox is 150 years or so. Another beautiful, sunny day, pretty hot, actually, but a nice breeze. I have made a visit to the eye doctor for a pressure check that I really needed to have (good results), and finally found someone to groom Trudy (her groomer has gone to ground, being immuno-compromised, which I understand - but dammit, my dog is a mess and needs her nails trimmed.) I have an invitation to a picnic with two friends next week, an invitation to join some neighbor ladies in a neighbor's back yard on Sunday, and a trip to Publix to look forward to tomorrow. I have laid a jigsaw puzzle out on the card table set up in the living room. I will eventually wander back to the bathroom and wash my face (no, I didn't wash my face before my eye appointment. It was at 8:00 a.m. and the doc is lucky I brushed my teeth.)
So go our lives. Going to the eye doc this morning felt weird. There are notices everywhere about not coming in if one is ill, and hand sanitizers at every corner. I couldn't wait to get home to wash my hands. I am getting grumpy. I am a social extrovert with high energy. I will survive this.
For today, I will look back a few days, beginning with Saturday, March 14, which marks the first day that we felt as though we should retreat a bit into our home and possibly stay here.
On Saturdays, Mike and I typically go out for lunch. We did this when we were working full-time and the habit has just hung on. Being creatures of habit, we mostly go to Sonny's barbecue restaurant, and don't vary our meal choices much. (Probably the best way to describe us is extreme creatures of habit.) So we did just that, discovering that Sonny's seemed pretty normal. We swung by Ace Hardware afterward, picked up a pair of pruning shears, and headed home. Then we did something very unusual - we actually went out into the backyard and used the pruning shears. It was hot, and normally we wouldn't have done anything after lunch but sit, but these are weird times. The shocker: no sports on TV. Mike is reduced to watching a replay of the TPC golf championship from 2019.
Sunday, March 15: Mike plays golf, as usual. I read. I nap. Mike comes home, watches last year's final round of the TPC (spoiler alert: Rory McElroy still won). We love our Sunday night TV schedule, and found ourselves glued to "60 Minutes" with its fascinating Covid-19 story. (For future readers, this is the official name of the virus that is sweeping the world and finally - finally - causing some panic in the U.S.)
Monday, March 16: Things are getting serious. My calendar for the week has emptied. Meetings and appointments are canceled; my inbox is full of emails canceling events and meetings throughout the remainder of the month, all of April, and some in May. Last Friday, the 13th, was the final school day before spring break; now we learn that schools are closed for spring break and beyond, with colleges facing no more classes this academic year. We begin to worry about our adult children and their school-age children; how will they cope? And with a son and daughter-in-law in the healthcare field, that worry is on overtime.
Tuesday, March 17: St. Patrick's Day. Primary election day in Florida. We voted early, a week and a half ago, and are concerned that those who didn't take that opportunity might decide against voting altogether. Results in the evening seem to bear this out - turnout is down 15 percent from four years ago. I put corned beef and cabbage in the crockpot. Our yard guy shows up and we have a long conference - suddenly I have thoughts about things to do in the yard and spend the afternoon trying to keep Trudy from having a coronary from so much barking at Yard Guy in the back yard and on the deck.
Wednesday, March 18: This morning I go into the yard, determined to clean up some things. These are nuisance invaders in the azaleas (little oak trees with nowhere else to go) and entirely too much leaf and straw buildup around the foundations of our home. I work for an hour and am exhausted - and sweaty. The irony of the best weather for spring break in at least ten years while everyone is staying home and trying to "flatten the curve" is not lost on me. (Future reader: "flattening the curve" means staying home and trying to lessen the inevitable spike in infections. We read the news from Italy with horror as their death toll approaches that of China. The difference in size of population of those two countries is stark. We note also that Italy has the oldest population in Europe and almost everyone smokes. This is small comfort.) A delight: phone calls from two of the grandchildren, courtesy of their thoughtful mom. We miss them.
And that brings us to today, Thursday, March 19, when we will experience the equinox at 11:50 p.m., the earliest equinox is 150 years or so. Another beautiful, sunny day, pretty hot, actually, but a nice breeze. I have made a visit to the eye doctor for a pressure check that I really needed to have (good results), and finally found someone to groom Trudy (her groomer has gone to ground, being immuno-compromised, which I understand - but dammit, my dog is a mess and needs her nails trimmed.) I have an invitation to a picnic with two friends next week, an invitation to join some neighbor ladies in a neighbor's back yard on Sunday, and a trip to Publix to look forward to tomorrow. I have laid a jigsaw puzzle out on the card table set up in the living room. I will eventually wander back to the bathroom and wash my face (no, I didn't wash my face before my eye appointment. It was at 8:00 a.m. and the doc is lucky I brushed my teeth.)
So go our lives. Going to the eye doc this morning felt weird. There are notices everywhere about not coming in if one is ill, and hand sanitizers at every corner. I couldn't wait to get home to wash my hands. I am getting grumpy. I am a social extrovert with high energy. I will survive this.
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