The Lovliest of All Was the Unicorn
Yesterday morning, obeying all manner of social distancing rules, I went for a walk with my niece Maggie and her two kids. Austin and Lilly were never closer than six feet from me, as they flew like the wind ahead of us on their scooters. Lilly was proud to show me her Brand New Helmet, which I unfortunately forgot to memorialize via a photo. Needless to say (at least for anyone who knows Lilly), it is a unicorn. The park was quite busy, but everyone was very respectful of minding our distances. I saw a few families riding their bicycles around Red Mountain Park Lake. It was lovely to get out and move my body in the sunshine.

Social Media
I have never been more grateful for social media than I am now. Every day, for example, I talk to my sisters via Facetime. Feeling like a hotshot, Jen was even able to figure out how the three of us could talk together at one time. (I hope she can remember what buttons she poked to repeat the activity.) The kids all use something called Zoom, which I don’t quite understand, and don’t need to, apparently. I can still order things on Amazon. Door Dash bring me lunch when I don’t feel like eating another turkey pastrami sandwich. Netflix and Amazon Prime keep me entertained, and Kindle keeps feeding me books. 

Food For Thought
Bec told me yesterday that she did her grocery shopping, and is confident she won’t have to do another shop for two weeks. I think that is awesome, and I would like to follow her example. I’m afraid, however, that I am too disorganized to be successful. Prior to All Of This, I used to shop every day. I’m better than that now, but I still find myself doing a grocery shop every three or four days, I’m afraid. I need to sit down at some point and plan out 14 meals and shop for those 14 meals. I will admit, however, that it always feels nice to get out of the house, even for that little bit.

Golden Oldies
I have been pleased that there is a lot of reading activity on my blog as of late. I am not kidding myself; I’m sure it’s because people are bored silly and desperate to read ANYTHING. Still, it feels good. But I will also tell you that it has been hard as hell to come up with blog ideas given that most of my life is between the same four walls. I think that in the upcoming weeks, I’m going to be posting some oldies but goodies. Bec suggested reposting some of my travel blog posts so that we can all travel vicariously once again. Stay tuned.

Ciao.

My mood vacillates like the weather. Believe me, I’m not thinking I am the only one experiencing mood changes during this period. In my 66 years on this earth, I have never been through something like a quarantine that lasts weeks upon weeks. I think the longest I’d ever been quarantined prior to this was a week when I had the measles as a kid.

Monday night, Arizonans received the “joyful” news that we are joining much of the rest of the United States in an mandated quarantine. Upon hearing the news, I went into immediate panic mode. I was ready to go out and buy some toilet paper. Two things stopped me: 1) There still isn’t a square of toilet paper to be found in the grocery stores as of yet; and 2) I realized that absolutely nothing was really changing in my day-to-day life. The only place I ever go that is beyond these four walls is the grocery store. And I’m still allowed to go to the grocery store under the rules.

I’m also allowed to get my hair cut, have my toenails painted, play golf, and order food to be delivered to my house when I am sick of cooking. So the mandated order seems kind of silly, but what do I know? It’s all about flattening the curve.

I wasn’t particularly worried about having access to wine or beer, or even whiskey. In Arizona, all of these things are sold in grocery stores. But I thought Bill might have a hard time finding cigars, as I assumed his cigar store would be closed. So yesterday morning, we drove over to the cigar store, and he went into buy a handful of cigars. He came out with the news that the cigar store was going to continue to be open. They, my friends, apparently provide an essential service.

Now, Bill and my brother would both agree with that premise. I, however, am asking myself, did the governor call for a mandatory quarantine just to make himself feel better? Just sayin’.

I’m sick of talking about the coronavirus. I spent the last few days checking on almost everyone I know and love, and they are all doing fine. And they are all sick of talking about the coronavirus. So, I’m going to change the subject.

Our grandson Alastair will turn 15 on April 5. I don’t know how that happened. He was just born. Anyhoo, he is not shy about asking for what he wants. I got a text message from him a week or so ago. In it, he said that instead of a gift, he would like cold hard cashola, which he intends to put towards his Purchase-A-Car Fund. Boom. I love when boys have plans and things are easy.

So I found out at which bank he keeps his Purchase-A-Car funds, and used Zelle to send the money to him. Within a few minutes, I got a thank-you text from him. It even included not one, but TWO, hearts.

I will tell you that technology almost always surprises me. But Zelle is more than technology. It is magic. Because it turns out that I don’t even have to know WHERE he banks. I only have to know his telephone number. Hit SEND, and within minutes you get a thank-you text from your grandson with two hearts.

I don’t want to think too much about how that happens and what could seemingly go wrong, but it’s better than thinking about the coronavirus.

It’s weird. Things that once felt and seemed completely abnormal now feel normal. Conversely, normal things seem ludicrous and unkind. When I see people on previously-recorded television programs doing things like, well, hugging, I cringe. Egads! I cry to my television. Haven’t you heard about social distancing? Can you please consider the six-foot rule?

Take church services. No, I mean really. They did take them away from us. Well, most church services anyway. I think there are a few Pentecostal churches that don’t care if their snakes are closer than six feet away from them. Amen. Praise the Lord.

But it’s been three weeks now since I’ve walked into my church to attend Mass. The first Sunday, I felt totally off-kilter. All day long, I couldn’t remember what day of the week it was. I missed the community — and the sacrament — that is Mass.

By the next week, Jen had steered me towards the online Sunday Mass provided by St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City. I don’t mean to be dramatic, but I cried through the whole first half of the Mass. It was so good to listen to those familiar words, especially now when things are so scary. I took advantage of the online Mass once again yesterday, and when it was finished, I realized that now watching a Mass on my iPad felt completely normal. I even said the responses out loud with the few brave souls who were assisting Cardinal Timothy Dolan at the altar. Amen. Praise the Lord.

I wonder if our old life will even feel familiar once we are released to live among, and actually touch, others.

I began pondering that a few days ago, when I turned on our television to watch Pope Francis give a special blessing to his flock. His homily — recited in (I think) Italian but translated for us into English — was mind-blowing in its simplicity. I seriously suggest that you tune into You Tube or wherever you can find a recording of his blessing and listen to the homily. It was amazing.

But back to my pondering. I have never believed that when bad things happen to people, it’s because they are being punished by God. Kids don’t get cancer because their parents are being punished. Tornados don’t destroy communities because the people who live there are bad. Pandemics aren’t punishment for misbehavior by God’s lowly humans.

But when things like tornados and diseases and pandemics happen, God wants — even expects — us to bring good out of the bad.

Coronavirus — for all the bad it’s doing — is causing the world to slow down. Families are spending time with each other. In an environment where many kids are rushing home from school, grabbing their homework to work on in the car while they eat a peanut butter sandwich on their way to tennis, or basketball, or swimming practice, they are welcoming a chance instead to sit around in their pajamas all day, playing Monopoly with their moms and dads. Instead of listening to podcasts while riding exercise bicycles in the gym, parents are listening to their kids laugh while riding bicycles with them around the neighborhood. We’re sitting around tables piled high with homemade food that our kids helped make. We’re learning to be kind to one another.

Or at least I hope we are being kind. And, though I know that real life will result in many of the same behaviors, I hope some of it lasts.

I think you all will agree with me that when you are under quarantine and staying mostly in your house with nothing to do but work on puzzles, watch British murder mysteries, or bake things that you really shouldn’t eat, every day seems like the next.

I had a text conversation with my nephew Erik yesterday afternoon in which I offered him use of some puzzles that are sitting in my closet. He expressed an interest, and said if they decide to go on a drive this weekend, they may stop by.

When’s this weekend? I asked him. I’ve lost track of my days.

Today is March, he responded.

#truth

Have a great weekend (whenever that its).

Well there’s a dark and a troubled side of life
There’s a bright and a sunny side too
But if you meet with the darkness and strife
The sunny side we also may view

Keep on the sunny side, always on the sunny side
Keep on the sunny side of life
It will help us every day, it will brighten all the way
If we keep on the sunny side of life. – Ada Blenkhorn and J. Howard Entwisle

On Monday, my sister Bec blogged here that she found a taste of “creature comfort” in this rather dark period with an ice-cold martini and a bouquet of her favorite flowers, pink tulips. I loved her sentiment, and so did many others. In fact, quite unexpectedly, a number of people commented about their creature comforts on both the post itself and on Facebook, where I download my blog daily.

My sister Jen, for example, said she was brightening her days by giving herself permission to buy Kindle books from Amazon instead of putting the book on hold at the library. A good book that was a click away was her creature comfort. Several people indicated chocolate provided them comfort. Chocolate Reese’s candy bars for one; chocolate for breakfast for another. Bill would concur with chocolate as a creature comfort…..

Another added Diet Mountain Dew and her hope for bright flowers soon as her creature comforts during the pandemic.

I have found it interesting, if predictable, that many people are looking for things to cheer them up. I say predictable because I think, when it’s all said and done, Americans are optimistic in general. Give us a roadblock, and we’ll look at the sunny side. There are examples during some of the roughest days in our history. Images of Rosie the Riveter during WWII. Yellow ribbons around the old oak tree during Vietnam.

Even before posting Bec’s blog, I had people sending me photos of things that were making them happy. My friend Denice, for example, sent this photo of her Christmas cactus that decided to bloom right now. Cactus-strong, she told me…..

My brother Dave has been working his butt off moving from one Basha’s Market to another baking bread to fill the shelves so people can have their toast in the morning and their children can eat their peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. He hasn’t complained, because he wouldn’t. But he sent this photo the other day, saying that he had finally gotten a chance to drive a big truck like he’d always dreamed of doing. A creature comfort…..

As for me, here are a few things that have made me happy in the past week or so…..

The orange blossoms are out here in the Valley of the Sun. The fragrance is beautiful as it hits my nose when I go out for my walk…..

When our Canadian neighbors went home, they gave me their geranium plants. Geraniums always make me happy because my mom planted them every summer no matter where she lived. Always red…..

When we were still in Denver, about the time that the pandemic was becoming real to everybody, I looked out in my flower bed and saw these yellow crocus peeking through the debris…..

And finally, last weekend, Bill and I went for a drive. It was a beautiful day with a bright blue sky. We came across this field of flowers, with an old rusty car parked right in the middle. It was all so pretty…..

What are your highlights or creature comforts during this difficult time?

I don’t want to write about the coronavirus. I hate the coronavirus. However, the fact remains that there is really nothing else to talk about. If I turn on the news (which I frankly do as seldom as possible lest I round up a noose and hang myself), that’s all they’re talking about . It’s like nothing else is happening in the entire world, which is probably mostly true.

Inasmuch as I was resistant for some time, I now — like most others — remain in my house looking at my husband (well, really the bottom half of my husband since he’s still working on his sports car), binge-watching Longmire.

Every couple of days, I gather up my nerve and go to a grocery store. I go to different stores each time, hoping things will look better. Yes, I have heard about the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. But Einstein didn’t live through the coronavirus pandemic, did he?

It’s excrutiatingly depressing. I came home the other day, and burst into tears when I saw Bill’s smiling face. “It’s like shopping in the old Soviet Union,” I told him. “The shelves are completely empty. There’s no meat. There’s no pasta.  There was not a single roll of toilet paper.”

He looked a bit panicked, as men are wont to do when the woman they love bursts into tears. I went on, “The good news is that I was able to get the last jar of peanut-butter-filled pretzels for you.”

“Maybe I could use those to wipe my butt,” he said. That, of course, made me laugh hysterically, since depression is only a step away from mania. I’m glad I married that man.

I tried again yesterday to mostly no avail. I am on the lookout for yeast, because I want to make bread. I have been totally unable to find a single packet of yeast. The lack of yeast makes me laugh, because I don’t really envision a bunch of millennials baking bread. In fact, prior to this quarantine, they had their food delivered to them by Blue Apron ready to put in the microwave and serve. I expect after this is all over, there will be plenty of yeast, only it will be in the garbage cans with past-due expiration dates.

I had purchased sugar and flour prior to the whole panic-shopping thingy, but feel very sorry for those hunting down the precious commodities now. As for me, being unable to find a box of brownie mix (or really any kind of mix) at the store, I tried my hand at baking from scratch using the aforementioned sugar and flour, with cocoa that I also had on hand. They weren’t as good as my sister Bec’s brownies, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Bill was wise enough to not complain….

By the way, our local grocery store chain Basha’s was the first in our city to set aside an hour for seniors. That happened last Wednesday, from 5 to 6. Yes, friends, I’m talking about 5 to 6 in the a.m. I got there at 5:04, feeling smug because I was sure I would be the only one there that early. Au contraire, mon ami. There were no parking spots left, not a cart to be found, and there was no room to move in the store (though this didn’t matter that much because there was mostly nothing on the shelves)…..

Since then, most other grocery stores are doing the same thing, most with a bit more sensible hours. As a result, I think seniors have settled down.

I continue to talk to my family, check on my neighbors, pray madly, and hope for the best. Stay healthy, my friends.