Tuesday, March 31, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 16

I decided this morning to check what the BBC had to say about the covid-19 pandemic. An article, "Coronavirus: What this crisis reveals about US - and its president," contained this paragraph:

As for the American exceptionalism on display, much of it has been of the negative kind that makes it hard not to put head in hands. The lines outside gun stores. The spike in online sales of firearms - Ammo.com has seen a 70% increase in sales. The panic buying of AR-15s. Some Christian fundamentalists have rejected the epidemiology of this pandemic. To prove there was no virus, a pastor in Arkansas boasted his parishioners were prepared to lick the floor of his church.

Based on that, we're certainly not putting our best face forward. Indeed, I have cringed at some of the things I have read about or heard about. I want to shout,"This is not us! We are not those people!" A soon as I finish shouting, though, I find myself asking, "Is this what we have become? Could we really be those people?" I have tried to stay away from politics here; I know how polarizing conversations can become. However, I also know how the world with which I am familiar has changed in the past three years. Walls, figurative and literal, have gone up in various places and between various groups. If those walls and divisions remain or, worst-case-scenario, deepen in, say, 6 years, I don't think this will be a country in which I want to live.

To restore my faith in America and Americans, I remind myself that there has also been positive American exceptionalism on display, though it may be in smaller acts that might be hard to isolate. It may not have originated in America, but Americans are jumping aboard the "Bear Hunt" train. Stuffed or plush bears and, in some communities, other animals, have been placed in windows or on porches so that children and children at heart can see how many bears or how many kinds of animals they can spot on a walk or drive. If I lived in a neighborhood of walkers and had a porch visible from the road, my large bear-friend Ursula would be in one of the Adirondack chairs on the porch with at least one friend, possibly TRex, an addition to the family at Christmas.

I read this morning about cars crowding a hospital parking lot one (last?) night. At 8:00 pm, all the drivers turned on their emergency blinkers and honked their horns to signal gratitude to the health care workers on the front line, inside the building. I have friends who are nurses, one in an emergency department, and at least two high school friends of younger son are physicians, again one in an emergency department. I think of them often and really should signal my gratitude to them in some way. Lights and horns won't work because they're spread across the country in four different states.

There are so many more positive examples. A small neighborhood grocery store here that is preparing and giving out free breakfasts and lunches every day. They try to use only locally obtained items, because farmers, bakeries, etc. need help, too. And they're looking to rent a large kitchen at a local restaurant so that they can serve more people or serve dinners in addition to the breakfasts and lunches. I have a number of friends, local and out-of-state or even international, sewing masks and/or operating room caps. A local running shop has been delivering merchandise locally so that people can keep running or walking for their physical and mental health. They've stopped that now in response to the new stay-at-home guidelines, unfortunately.

Not just closer to but right at home, older son continues to shop for us and make it possible for us, especially me, to avoid all contact even at a social distance. (I have a few things that make me high-risk or very close to that.) And he's extended this offer to our neighbors, a couple in their 80s who both have some mobility issues. I expect that there are other such arrangements here and away, in which one family member meets the needs of others who need or want to stay as isolated as possible.

I feel better having written all that. Balancing positive acts against negative ones, I think the positive ones are winning at least for now. I hope that continutes.

Monday, March 30, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 15

The governor is making "a major announcement" about the state's covid-19 response today at 2:00. Scuttlebutt has it that he will putting a shelter-in-place, lock-down, call it what you will, our time in the hermitage becoming mandatory rather than voluntary. Our governor is supposedly coordinating responses with Maryland's governor, and Maryland's governor earlier today issued such an order. That order said that the only acceptable reasons for being outside one's home were obtaining food or medical care.

The announcement about the governor's address came in a tweet: "I'll be making a major announcement about Virginia's response at 2:00 PM today. Watch live here on Twitter or at http://facebook.com/GovernorVA ." What does it say that social media have become so mainstream that traditional media, print and otherwise, are not the place to look for things such as a speech by a governor? Needless to say, I have Facebook open in another tab and will switch over there once the talk begins. 

Older son has asked for some sort of letter from us stating that by being our conduit to the outside world, he is ensuring that his parents and their 80-something neighbors do not have to leave their homes. He has also been shuttling laundry back and forth between our home and my mother's assisted living facility. Once he takes back the laundry I will be doing tomorrow, he will no longer have to handle that. We've arranged for the facility to do laundry as long as virus conditions require. One less thing to worry about, as if life in general did not have enough right now.

So we do have a stay-at-home executive order effective immediately. The real-time comments on the Facebook feed of the speech were going by almost too fast to read, but there was a fair bit of grousing that there was no enforcement mechanism to the order, so what was local law enforcement to do? Was there a penalty other than being told you should not be doing this?  There did appear to be a bit of fluff in the order itself, which is available here. There were more than several comments about the fact that nonessential retail establishments can stay open as long as there are no more than 10 people in the facility at one time. And several viewers/listeners with  were upset that construction seemed to be viewed as essential.

While the updated federal guidance is to maintain social distance measures until April 30.Today's state order, which I assume would have precedence over a federal one, lasts until June 10. The governor was asked today how the municipal elections scheduled in May for some localities would be handled. The answer was that they were working on that. No one asked about the Democrat's primary election scheduled for June 9. I'm an assistant precinct chief. While my precinct does not have a May election, we do have a June one. And things just continue to get weirder and weirder.






Sunday, March 29, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 14

I left the Hermitage today. Older son, the husband, and I took the family dog on a car-car ride. "Car-car" is the magic word that sends her into ecstatic dog noises. If only she or any other dog could tell me why riding in a car, even with the windows closed, is so special.

We went to the nearest park which, fortunately, is a county park. The city government has closed the parking lots of all the city parks and warned that if the parks themselves get too crowded, they will close them as well. The county has taped off shelters and playgrounds and locked all the restrooms but the parking lots are still open. There are reminders of social distancing posted on various fence posts. The dog park is limited to 10 humans, who are, of course, asked to distance themselves appropriately.

As we walked, I consciously avoided touching anything until the morning's coffee needed an outlet, and I had to use the post-a-potty. I pulled my hand up my sleeve and touched nothing with bare skin. When I got home, the sweatshirt went into the laundry, and I went into the shower. It felt odd to be almost paranoid about touching anything. Here in the Hermitage, I touch whatever I want. I still wash my hands though not as often as I would, what to call it, out in the open? The outland? The real world?

Perhaps because I read too many post-apocalyptic novels as a teenager, I find myself imagining what life might be like if social distancing and self-isolating continued, if the "new normal" became "the normal." Would all children be schooled at home even if they weren't home-schooled? What would become "hello" if not a handshake? A bow? What would be a "so good to see you" if not a hug? Waving just doesn't seem appropriate.

A local resident tweeted that he drove around town, not getting out of his car, for an hour, and was surprised at the number of people who evidently think everything is just fine. Older son says the people across the street have nightly cookouts in the front yard whenever the evening temperature permits. Does this mean that those of us who are trying to be vigilant about the advice from the scientists and doctors have to remain vigilant even longer?

How many of us know someone who has been diagnosed with covid-19? Thinking of the six degrees of Kevin Bacon, I am two degrees apart from someone so diagnosed, the cousin of one of my quilting friends. Would knowing someone who has covid-19 put the fear of God into the people who for now seem clueless? Much as I'd hate to wish affliction on someone, if that is what it takes for some people to be careful, it might actually be worth it.

From this morning's Washington Post:  "It took about a month from the first confirmed death on Feb. 29 for the United States to record its first 1,000 coronavirus-related fatalities. The number of confirmed deaths has since doubled in two days." It may not take long for the number of degrees of separation to drop dangerously low.




Saturday, March 28, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 13

The pandemic is messing with my perceptions of time. How many days have we been hermitting? How many days would be enough? If someone were to be exposed today, when might they become symptomatic? When will the cases or deaths in insert city, state, or country here peak? Andrew Cuomo, governor of New York, says the peak there will be in 21 days. When will the curves everyone is talking about flatten? 

I have a hard time remembering what day of the week it is. It's not quite the "every day is Saturday" feeling retired friends say they have, but it's similar. It's Saturday now, but it could be any day. Older son came early, bringing the groceries I'd told him we needed. We did an in-the-dark walk with the dog. We got back, older son went back out for a run, and I attacked the newspapers. I often go use the decades old NordicTrack ski machine or do some leg or ab exercises. I decided I needed a rest today; walking would be good enough. When older son came back from his run, he, the husband, and I took the dog for a second, longer walk. That sounds like any day this week.

The time during the day gets fuzzy as well. I have been spending mornings writing or doing small tasks in the kitchen or living areas. Afternoons I try to be at my sewing machine. Coming upstairs to start making dinner means turning on CNN for "The Situation Room." When that morphs into the daily report from the coronavirus task force, I change the station, especially if the husband has descended from his office. He cannot stand even hearing the president's voice let alone seeing him. I don't want to run back downstairs after dinner, so I read or work on something while the husband does crossword puzzles. Right now, I'm making needle-felted ornaments to sell at the Fall Fiber Festival, assuming it is still held. 

While the time periods mentioned have been on a more immediate level, the effects of the pandemic extend to periods measured in years as well. Affecting me more than the postponement of the Olympics or any other event, the husband's retirement will evidently be postponed. With the various nuclear physics labs at which he conducts his research going offline for so long, the experiments he had planned to run at various points in time have moved further into the future. Needless to say, understanding the reason behind it does not necessarily lessen my dislike of this news.

From hours to years, out in the world or closer to home, time is relative. Albert Einstein proposed that a century ago, around the time of an earlier pandemic.

Friday, March 27, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 12

Today marks a dozen days of social distancing a.k.a. playing hermit. It's clear that today's dozen will become tomorrow's baker's dozen. It's not at all clear, though, how long it might last. A dozen dozen days? Gross! (groan) If the coronavirus behaves in other cities as it has behaved in New York City, we could be in for a very long haul. Will New York City be even more apocalyptic in two weeks? Two weeks after that? Will New Orleans be the next New York City? Will Florida be the next Washington (state)?

A friend's daughter and grandchildren are staying with her here, out in the relative country. The husband/father works in public health in an urban area and didn't want his family there while the coronavirus raged. Better to have his children able to run outside in a yard without the worry of people passing by than to have them locked inside to go crazy. How many other such cases are there around the country? It reminds me of the children's being sent out of London during the Blitz.

 I try not to feel pangs of guilt at being able, thanks to older son and the family finances, to effectively shut off the world. I know people who are not so lucky, some by choice and others not. An emergency room nurse who can't just stay home. The nail technician who works in a shop that has been closed. One risks life if not limb while the other loses her livelihood. What am I risking in these trying times? Not a damned thing!






Thursday, March 26, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 11

The "Local Living" section of today's Washington Post has several columns or questions about helping kids cope with anxiety over the way things are right now. I'm not sure how the sons would have reacted had we gone through something like this when they were little. I know we would have explained it to them as truthfully as possible. We would have let them watch the news with us. We would not have censored the information.

I was something of a pariah among preschool parents in 1990 when Operation Desert Storm began. As noted above, the sons watched the nightly news with us, and we answered their questions factually. Older son took the information he had learned and was explaining troop movements to his preschool classmates, none of whom had any idea there was a mini-war going on. Some became quite anxious according to their parents, and it was my fault for letting my son know what was going on.

Children not old enough to understand the details about something mirror their parents' attitudes toward that something. They learn by doing or feeling what they see the adults they know best doing or feeling. Older son was not anxious about Operation Desert Storm because the husband and I were not anxious. We did not hide our concern from him, but it was certainly not the end of the world. I am not sure that would be the case with the current pandemic. I do know that I would have been less nervous about things then than I am now, almost 30 years later. My asthma would still have put me in a higher risk group, but I would have had a much younger age to put in the plus column. And I am less anxious now than I might otherwise be because I am following the guidance about social distance and contact. What anxiety I do feel these days is helping me take the precautions I can after which there's not much else to worry about.

Today's parents may also be handling having their kids home from school for an extended period of time, in a couple of cases for the rest of the academic year. At-home enrichment and reading may be enough for the young ones, but the teenagers in subject-matter classes are a totally different matter. Teenage me would probably be fine with learning online. My first experience with online instruction was when I was in a sixth grade math class, way back in the late 1960s. In many ways student me enjoyed online, independent learning, but I have been told that I am not normal. I hope that today's students in sequential classes are able to grasp the material that would have been taught in a classroom March through May.

The students in social studies classes such as civics, government, or history are watching a future textbook being written before their eyes. I just hope their possibly pariah parents are letting them watch or read the news.



Wednesday, March 25, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 10

The Editorial Board of The New York Times last night, in a rather lengthy op-ed piece, reported "Coronavirus is Advancing. All Americans Need to Shelter in Place." If that wasn't enough, there was this subtitle: "The worst of the pandemic is yet to come. Listen to the medical experts. It's time for a national lockdown." The Board conceded that the President may not have the authority to order a national lockdown, but noted that he can "use the bully pulpit" to pressure 50 governors into declaring 50 state-wide lockdowns. This sounds good to me, though for this to work, I would think that the states that have already locked down would likely need to stay locked down so that the country as a whole can emerge after two weeks.

There is news this morning that the first-in-line heir to the British throne, Charles, has tested positive for covid-19. He had not been with the queen in two weeks, so she may be safe. She has been self-isolating anyway since her age, 93, puts her in one of the highest risk categories. Charles, after all, is 71. I noted to older son that there were likely Brits secretly hoping that Charles would pass so that William would become heir to the throne. I wonder what he feels like right now. Does he feel ready to be the heir were his father to die? Would he be ready to be king? Those are not questions I would want to be asking myself. Older son wondered if Harry might want to return to the royal fold were his father to die. My vote was that he would not. I do hope, though, that he would return to England for the funeral.

Older son and I also discussed the value of royalty in times such as we live in today. The Royals have no real legal authority, but are the absolute champions when it comes to saying "keep strong and carry on." They can lead by example as well such as when the king did not evacuate London during the Blitz. The queen may be isolating herself and not making public appearances, but that may make it easier for some Brits to isolate themselves or just maintain social distances. If the queen can do it, so can they.

The husband and I have, though not during the pandemic, discussed the value of a nation's having a figurehead such as a queen or king. Criticize the president as the elected head of state all you want, but the ranking royal represents the heart of the country and is sacrosanct. In the deep past, husband and I discussed whether Ronald and Nancy Reagan might be good American royalty. In their days, they may very well have been the best example. Today? I have no idea whatsoever. And given the divisions that have arisen here in the last five years, no one does.

Here in the Hermitage, we would have no problem with a nationwide lockdown. At least, I would have no problem with one. The husband often surprises me on the opinion front. We've essentially locked ourselves down. If we gave older son a grocery list, we could have the provisions needed to be totally on our own for two weeks. Son could do his own grocery shopping and then isolate himself.  Much as the President who shall remain nameless wants to see the country "opened up and raring to go," that ain't gonna happen. And if it did, the months ahead would be worse than the month in which we now live.



Tuesday, March 24, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 9

Coming in from walking the family dog this morning, I had the sense of coming back into a balloon in which I lived. There was a real sense of warmth, as if I had wrapped a warm blanket around myself. I felt more comfortable in here than I did out there even if there were no people out there with whom I needed to avoid contact. 

Virginia yesterday became the second state in which schools are closed for the remainder of the academic year. Kansas was the other one, though there may be more by now. Entertainment and recreational establishments were ordered closed, and strict limits were put on the number of shoppers allowed in some retail establishments at the same time. We are not - yet - expected to stay indoors and shelter in place, something one in three Americans is now doing, but our turn could come.

We probably all have friends or acquaintances who cannot lock their doors and shelter in place. The work they do is seen as essential to taking care of the rest of us. An emergency room nurse on the front lines of the pandemic. A truck driver who hauls things that absolutely must get from Point A to Point B within a certain time. A delivery person or one who hands me my food at the drive-through window. These people may have their own bubble to which they return when they can, but they have to leave it again on a regular basis.

We probably all have friends or acquaintances who wish they could leave their bubble because food on the table comes only from their work outside that bubble. The week before my stay in the Hermitage began, I tipped two regular service providers more than I usually would, knowing that if their job did not disappear, the people who came for the service provided might. I hope that both are still there when we no longer need to live in bubbles.

I try not to feel guilty about the fact that I can afford to stay in my bubble and do not have to leave it, really, for anything foreseeable. Thanks to cancellations of all kinds, the next out-of-bubble event on my calendar is a haircut in late May. I would hope that life would have at least neared normality by then, but what if this really is the new normal? I am really not sure I want to live out my days in a bubble, comfortable though it may be. For now, I will think of this time not as a new normal but as an abnormal. I hope I'm correct in that thinking.

Monday, March 23, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 8

Here in Virginia, the governor will announce today what is going to happen with public K-12 education. Right now, schools must be closed for the rest of this week. After that has been up to each school division. The county schools here, for example, say they will be closed through April 10. Their spring break is April 6 through 10, and they likely think that sending kids back for one week sandwiched between weeks off is not a good idea. Older son thinks the governor will close public schools for the rest of the academic year. Much as I hate to say it, I agree.

I commented to older son that the county superintendent has noted that they will not be holding students back despite their having missed most of the second semester. Older son countered by asking how many students were held back in a normal year. Yeah, not many. Leaving AP or IB classes out of the equation, the real problem area is math. A student with close to only two-thirds of a year of Algebra I will not transition well to Algebra II, especially in a system that places Geometry between the two years of algebra. Foreign languages also depend on the foundation laid in a previous year, but only in that the starting point of the next year's subject matter shifts back to where instruction ended the previous year.And let's not forget to ask what the summer slump will be like after six months of "summer vacation" rather than two or three. It sets some kids up to playing catch-up for the rest of their K-12 career.

The New York Times has a fascinating article today, "The Virus Can Be Stopped but Only With Harsh Steps, Experts Say." I read the online version, but can't imagine it is not also in the print edition. The thesis was that the measures China, South Korea, Singapore, and Taiwan have used to rein in the coronavirus would be anathema to Americans. An example would be to use the GPS capability of cell phones to tell when someone has gone outside their isolation or quarantine quarters. In South Korea, they use a GPS app and violators pay an $8,000 fine. Such apps along with credit card and bank records can help in tracing contacts by enabling officials to see where someone was while they were contagious but before becoming symptomatic. Doing this well is vital to stopping the virus from infecting others. Can you imagine the furor that would result were those measures even suggested here?

Given the education theme I unintentionally started above, is the decision of if and when to close schools. According to the Times's article, this is not uniformly considered to be a good idea. Right now, schools are closed in 45 of the 50 states. That children can be carriers of the coronavirus has not been established, though since they are basically asymptomatic, they could channel Typhoid Mary. Some experts argue that closing schools puts children at home meaning some essential personnel may not be able to go to work. At the same time, closing schools helps maintain social distance between the adults who must work at those schools. We are apparently damned if we do and damned if we don't. I am glad I am not the one who has to make the decision.





Sunday, March 22, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 7

Older son, the husband, and I took Lassa, the family dog, on a "pack walk" at a nearby park this morning. The dog park was limited to ten "patrons (humans)" who were asked to keep their distance from each other. Lassa views the dog park as the opportunity to get petted by any and every human there, and there were no humans there at the time, so we just walked. Because we all walk at somewhat different paces and because older son was going where Lass led him, keeping a social distance was easy. All the other people we saw were solitary with the exception of a couple running into the park as we drove out. She was pushing a pram that likely held in infant. He was pushing a double stroller holding two toddlers. Since they couldn't really keep social distance between adult and child being pushed, social distance between the two adults was probably superfluous.

On the news front, once again The Post's front page was all pandemic all the time. The Sports section (now only available on Sunday) was all of six pages, one of which held a full page ad. One and two-thirds of a page were devoted to a list of sports-related movies chosen by Post sportswriters, columnists, and editors. I've seen only four of the 32 movies listed; perhaps I really should get out more. On a related note, the posts of an internet-based quilt group to which I belong have of late focused on what to binge-watch or just watch while hermitting. Most of the titles mentioned are unfamiliar to me, possibly the only person in the country who has never watched any of "Downton Abbey," series or movie, or the movie "Titanic."

My kids are grown, so I won't years from now be asked by my children, "What did you do in the pandemic, Mom?" I'm clearly not watching TV, at least anything other than the news. I am likely on this computer too much, checking email and Facebook far too often. Writing this blog takes more than a few minutes each day. For some strange reason, officers of the quilt guild for which I am webmaster have used their free time to come up with more than several additions to the guild website. I have two non-trivially sized additions to make once I'm done or take a break from writing this post. I was working on a bag my local guild is doing as a sew-along, but I got bored with that and yesterday pieced a small quilt or large wall hanging. Creative undertakings help me ignore whatever news I am not hearing at the time.

While I do follow news of the pandemic on the television or computer, I probably would not need to. What I hear from the husband and older son would be sufficient to tell me things could be going better. I fear being sucked into the news coverage, becoming too obsessed with the who, what, when, etc. of the larger story, in which case my current doses of anti-depressants might not be enough. At the same time, though, I don't want to be the ostrich burying its head in the sand. There is  a happy medium out there between too much and too little pandemic news. Some days I can find it; other days, I can't.

Saturday, March 21, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 6

Once again, every article on the front page of The Washington Post is about the covid-19 pandemic. The Monday through Saturday Sports section is no more, sports having been relegated to be the last pages of the Style section except for on Sunday. When the husband comes up from the bedroom, his first priority is coffee. The next is checking various news sources on his smartphone. I could not escape all this if I tried.

As older son and I walked the family dog this morning, we discussed the current administration in general terms. Older son is reading a book about Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. He said he'd had to pause reading the description of FEMA's arriving and trying to normalize things as much as possible. We agreed that we never thought we'd say it, but we both miss President George W. Bush. He, or at least his advisors, knew what circumstances needed. Bush's speech at Ground Zero was what the country needed to hear at that time. Obama's comments after a number of school shootings (Aside: I should not be able to write "a number of" there.) showed his compassion as well as his belief that things should change. Obama's breaking into "Amazing Grace" at the funeral in Charleston--it was what was needed at that time.

And what words or acts are needed now? Certainly not yesterday's incident in the press room, Peter Alexander's question about what the president would tell people who are scared. The President's answer? Words to the effect that the question was a "very nasty" one and Alexander was a "terrible" reporter. The quizzical look on Alexander's face was priceless. It was not a bad question. In fact, it was a softball question that the president could and should have hit out of the park. A gimme presented on a silver platter. Alexander later posed the same question to Vice President Pence, who gave a very appropriate answer: "Don't be afraid. Be vigilant."

What do I need? One in five Americans has been told to stay home; the rest are supposed to distance themselves socially. While many are, I'd like to hear that at least more if not all of the others are doing the same. The photos from Spring Break scare me, as does a photograph the husband showed me of thousands of people in Bangladesh, crowded cheek to jowl to pray for the end of the virus. I know that Bangladesh ranks 10th in the world in terms of population density, but still, can't they do better? Older son says that the people in the house diagonally across the street from him are having nightly barbecue parties on the front lawn. People come and go, and social distance seems a foreign concept.

I need to know that the people leading the federal efforts are the right ones. Vice President Pence may know what people want to hear, but he does not have the appropriate knowledge and experience to direct the federal task force in charge of it all. And don't get me started on Jared Kushner's involvement. If Anthony Fauci dies or gets fired, we're doomed.

I need to know that contract or wage employees are not being sent to a poorhouse or, worse, left high and dry. Our gym is waiving the dues due on April 1, but members who want to can pay their dues, with the money going to help staff in need. Three guesses what we are going, and the first two don't count. I need to know that kids who are too young are not being left home alone because their day care or school has closed.  Paychecks vs. children. A reporter on NBC News last night noted that many people are facing Sophie's choice right now.

And I need to know something that no one can say right now, that this is not the new normal. There are so many walls between cultures, genders, religions already; physical distance only magnifies those differences. I need to know that hugging will someday be okay again. I need to know that one day I will get up and be able to read five or six articles on The Post's first page that are not all on the same subject. I need a Sports section, damn it! I need so many things I used to take for granted.





Friday, March 20, 2020

The View from the Hermitage Day 5

Captain's Log, Star Date Sometime...

Older son arrived this morning and reported that the governor of California had put the state in lock-down. He opined that he would not be surprised if, late this afternoon after the stock markets close, a similar lock-down would be put into effect nationwide. He told me to be thinking of grocery items that won't go bad and to think in terms of months, not days. We thought that were a national lock-down put in place, it would not start until Monday. That said, if a national lock-down were to be declared, last weekend would be nothing compared to how crowded stores would be this weekend.

I admit that, in response to that thought, I got on chewy.com to order extra pet food and amazon.com to order some extra female-hygiene items. I did not check to see if amazon had toilet paper or disinfectant wipes for sale; I did not want to be tempted to buy some. We have enough toilet paper for quite a while and, well, TMI on the other measures I'd be willing to take.

My nail lady texted to ask me if I planned to keep my appointment next week. I told her I was leaning against it. She texted back in a few minutes to make it a moot point. The owner was closing the salon after today. It would be interesting--and, no, I don't plan on doing this--to drive around and see just what places are still open. Many eating establishments are take-out or delivery only given the limit of 10 people in one space. A couple of restaurants near the university and its hospital were staying open so that hospital employees had somewhere other than the hospital cafeteria at which they could obtain food. Those places were forced to shut down because too many college-age people were trying to get in or were crowding the outdoor seating. Older son said that he had heard that violating the 10-person rule (is that anything like the 5-second rule of dropped food?) could result in the loss of a business license.

Buying gift cards to use later has been suggested as one way to help restaurants stay afloat during these trying times. When I mentioned that to the husband, he somewhat snorted that what if the restaurant had closed by the time the pandemic ended and we would again be able to go out to eat. At one point, I was the cynic in this marriage, but things change over time. I have not purchased any gift cards largely because most of the restaurants on the list were places to which we had no interest in going or returning. So far, cooking all our meals has not been a burden. Given the lack of errands to run, there's not really any time pressure to use as an excuse not to cook.

One thing I do miss is getting decent workouts. I can't run thanks to a knee replacement, and walking takes a longer time to get a good sweat on, especially if the resident dog accompanies. I may resort to pulling out the three-decades-old Nordic Track ski machine and see if it still works. I've been working on strength training with a trainer. We have a nice assortment of hand weights here, but I don't want to do something wrong and end up injured. That's why I wanted to work with a trainer in the first place. I've been doing push-ups and abs (crunches, atomic sit-ups, and the like), but it's hard for me to push myself when doing calisthenics.

And that's about it for this star date.

Captain Jean

Thursday, March 19, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 4

The Washington Post's sports section was all of three pages this morning, one of which was filled with Tom Brady. The husband commented that at least for once, they had scores of every sporting event, not just the popular ones. There is one article on the Post's front page not directly linked to the coronavirus; that would be an Election 2020 article, "Sanders may be open to dropping out, team signals." In the 28-page section A, there is one page with no report related to the coronavirus while three of the pages are full-page ads. The pandemic has become our life.

Time is distorted. I look at my watch to see what day of the week it is. There is no "I did this weekly thing yesterday, so today is Thursday." I can't connect one day to another by personal events. The totals of confirmed infected and those who have died rise so quickly that I think several days must have passed. The data analyst I once was tries to repress what the sharp rise  really means. The best description of time may be something I saw on Facebook (sorry, but I don't remember the source): What a year this week has been.

And it's going to last a lot longer, I fear, having seen the photos of the Florida beaches during Spring Break. I read a local report of crowded fraternity parties and a large number of students massing and mingling on one of the university's playing fields. Having heard that the number of young people hospitalized with covid-19 is rising, these gatherings could be the breeding ground for the next viral wave. Let's hope that it isn't a tsunami.

It occurred to me that the constant co-existing with the husband could be a harbinger of his retirement. I am used to spending full days in the company of a dog and a cat; having another human in the house 24-7 is something new. So far, so good. That said, he's spending most daytime hours in what passes for his home office, with the door closed to protect the yarn that is also in the room from the wool-crazy cat. I remember a senior woman telling me the story of what happened when her husband retired. She worked part-time from home. When passing through the dining room to get to the kitchen, she found her husband sitting at the table patiently waiting. The punchline to the story was what she said next: "I married him for life, not for lunch." He learned that fairly quickly as I recall.

The White House has issued a document, "15 Days to Slow the Spread." Fifteen days should slow the spread, but if everyone immediately goes back to living their pre-coronavirus lives, we won't have crossed the finish line. Our lives in the age of coronavirus are not normal, and they may never be again. Fifty is the new 30? Abnormality is the new normal. I do not expect to jump back into action when we reach the 15-day mark. Distancing socially for 15 days means we don't have it or catch it during those 15 days. It's not as if the 15 days gives us the immunity to jump right back into the world. Social distancing protects us while we are doing it, but once we stop, all bets are off.

What a year this week has been. And next week's year may be no different.

Wednesday, March 18, 2020

The View from the Hermitage, Day 3

The University of Virginia has effectively shut down for now. Were I still working there, I would not have been affected given that I already worked from home. Now, though,

To be clear, those who must report for work will have to do so.  Those who can work remotely will have to do so. 

It appears I was ahead of the times. 

Previously, students were encouraged to go home but had the option of staying on Grounds (UVA does not have a "campus;" it has "Grounds." Now, though, students

must make plans to leave by Friday, March 20, unless they meet one of the following criteria: 1) international students who are unable to secure travel to return home; 2) persons for whom their on-Grounds residence is their only home (including graduate students, postdocs, faculty, and staff for whom their on-Grounds residence is their permanent address); or 3) students for whom traveling home would present a severe health or safety risk.  

Graduation has also been cancelled, which will please some students and parents and likely displease more. Younger son "walked the Lawn" (or went through the formal graduation bit), while older son did not. I must admit that going to see younger son walk (and we did not actually see him until later, at the departmental ceremony at which he received his diploma) was enough for me. I went through the formal graduation ceremony at the undergraduate level (not at UVA) but passed on it at for my master's and doctorate. My doctoral supervisor left UVA a week after my orals; he had told me that had he stayed here, I would have been walking.

Because I have not been out much at all, I have not seen directly how local life has changed. There was less traffic yesterday when I went for my mammogram, but that could also have been due to UVA students moving home and K-12 schools not operating. My neighbors appear still to be working. I have seen a grocery store clerk and the owner of a computer services firm heading out to their respective jobs. The owner of a construction firm has also been out and about. We actually have several houses here with family member(s) who already worked from home.

I'm not sure how many eating establishments are still open and how many are closed or only serving take-out. We live several miles outside town so I don't know if any of the meal delivery services would come here. I'm not craving restaurant food, though. I'm instead enjoying making meals here and being able to eat them with the husband who has no gym to visit on his way home from work. Normally, I'm hungry for dinner before he gets home, so we eat separately.

I checked the various news sources on my phone first thing this morning. "First thing" was earlier than hoped for thanks to not sleeping at all well. I've looked at some updates as they appear on my phone. I may turn on CNN as I'm getting dinner out. The angel on one shoulder wants to be informed while the devil on the other insists that no news is good news. It is good, I suppose, that the news is so easily obtained should I want to pursue it. In the days of the Spanish flu pandemic, news did not come quickly. If I want to know how a family member or friend is, all I need to do is phone. Total aside here, but I just realized that there have been far fewer junk mail calls yesterday and today than last week or the week before. Maybe the spam-callers aren't filling the cheek-to-jowl phone banks, but keeping a social distance from each other and giving all of us a break.

Boredom? Not for me, anyway. I have enough fiber supplies to last for more that=n a few months. I think I'll go back to my studio and work on the bag below.