I went out on Monday. It was eerier than the last time I was out and about, but I did manage to score a pack of toilet paper and another box of tissue. Tissue is an essential in our home this time of year when pollen counts start to rise. It’s been rainy and cool, so the allergies have lessened considerably but I still have the nagging post-nasal drip. It’s my normal.
I also found some of those tuna packets my son likes. I was mailing him a care package so I grabbed a few to add to it. He’s deployed right now and far from family. I sent him a care package and one to my son-in-law who works on the North Slope of Alaska and is grounded for the foreseeable future (Alaska has closed her borders and he lives in Phoenix so would not be able to return to work if he went home). Both of my “girls” are single moms right now and it’s hard. You mothers out there doing that thing know what I mean: single motherhood is HARD. You love those little critters but they consume you. You make jokes about hating your kids on Facebook and people come out with all sorts of criticism about how you’re raising children to have no self esteem because you can’t stand your kids. they don’t understand that a sense of humor (albeit dark) is essential to your survival.
I get it – a dark sense of humor formed my childhood, my teen years, and my adulthood. My family doesn’t send sentimental cards – we send borderline cruel and hysterically funny cards. The funnier the card, the more you are loved.
One thing I learned when I went out on Monday is that there is a lot of debate (and I mean A LOT) about the wearing of face masks. WHO recommends one thing and the CDC recommends another. You can’t win for losing. WHO recommends that no one wear face masks unless they are actually ill, a First Responder, or caring for someone with COVID-19. CDC recommends that EVERYONE wear a mask when they go out.
I wear nitrile gloves, but most people don’t. And a lot of those who do, discard them in their grocery carts for the grocery people to dispose of. That latter part is rude. Wrong. Filthy. Dispose of them yourself in the safest way possible. I take mine off in such a way that I don’t touch the finger parts. then I still sanitize all the surfaces I touched during my outing. I hate the waste, but it is our new reality.
Here in Oregon, single-use plastic bags were banned across the board and stores were mandated to charge shoppers for paper bags. It’s all about using your reusable shopping bags Then: novel coronavirus. You can’t use reusable bags anywhere. You either carry your groceries out unbagged and bag them in the privacy of your car or you buy ANOTHER reusable bag at the store or you pay five cents per paper bag.
Another change that has 48 other states shaking their heads over: we have to pump out own gasoline now. New Jersey remains the sole hold out against self pump now. Oregon finally conceded because of the virus (and I fully expect self serve to remain the law when we are out of this because the pundits have been pushing for that for decades). I saw a lot of gas station employees standing around while people pumped their own gas. Okay. Change. *I know how to pump my own gas. I hate to. I used to work as a gas station attendant. I’ll miss that luxury.
I have to go out again tomorrow. Our Credit Union was acquired by another Credit Union. Tomorrow is the day we have to activate our new debit/credit cards. I have a lot of automatic payments that will be going through tomorrow – and have the wrong information. I have to order new checks. I can’t do it today (or couldn’t as it is now after ten PM). I have to stuff this all in on April First on top of the stress we’re all living under. And guess what: I DON”T WANT to go out. I’d be happy staying in isolation another week. But I have to so I can pay bills.
I feel like I have gotten a bit whiny on this post. Let me tell you something positive. There was this oak tree in my neighbor’s yard. Not a native oak, but some kind of oak they sell in tree nurseries as “decorative” and “approved” by whatever city or county regulations. I love the native oaks: tall, thick, many branched. The leaves fall early in Autumn. This other variety doesn’t have those heavy limbs and grows in an inverse “V” instead of the arc that native oak grows in (look at the horizon to understand). This tree also does not shed its leaves all at once. It sheds them – slowly – all winter. The shedding isn’t finished until the new leaves come in sometime in late May. All those leaves end up in MY flower beds. They don’t harbor insects – they harbor slugs. And slugs devour my flowers.
Well, today – HALLELUJAH! – the landlord cut the damn tree down. It was only 20 feet tall. It has ceased its reign of terror on my flower beds. And I am very happy about that.
These are just notes jotted from isolation. I don’t mean for this to be a post that follows through logically. There’s no plot, no climax or denouement. It’s just life in the suburbs during the novel coronavirus pandemic of 2020, 102 years after the 1918 Influenza pandemic. I keep track of county numbers; there were 17 cases in my county on March 25 and no deaths. There are 50 cases and 3 deaths today just 7 days later. That’s more than double the IDENTIFIED cases. No one gets tested unless they are on their death bed here.
And in other news, a 6.5 earthquake hit north central Idaho today. That’s big. It was felt as far away as Battle Mountain, Nevada. I trust you can all use Google Maps: Challis, Idaho to Battle Mountain. That’s not a small distance.
As a friend of mine says on our private email group: “We live in Interesting Times”
Buckle up. It’s only just beginning. And keep your sense of humor. That’s one way you survive.
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