The View from the Hermitage, Day 122

Pardon the profanity, but when I saw the number of new covid-19 cases in Virginia yesterday, my comment to older son was," We're fucked." Yesterday's number of new cases was the sixth highest since this all started. We obviously are not surging as states such as Texas, California, or Florida are, but the slope of the line is getting steeper. The superintendent of pubic schools in the county announced that they were adding "all online" instruction to the list of options being considered for fall. One reason was that the numbers were getting to the level they had been at in March when the schools closed, making staying closed the prudent thing to do. I can't say that I disagree.

The husband went to the local running shop today to get a recommendation on a new type of shoe. Before he left, I phoned the shop and asked them to set aside two pairs of the shoes I've been wearing for him to pick up. First, though, I thanked them for how they had been handling the pandemic. I have cited them more than once as an exemplar of how a business should operate. They closed down at the outset but kept the business open for curbside pick-ups and local delivery. As things were starting to re-open, the owner of the store noted in an email newsletter that there were two ends to a pandemic, the medical end and the social end. The medical end came when there were vaccine and/or treatment options that slowed or ended the rampant spread. The social end would come much later, when people were no longer afraid of being exposed and would start doing things or going places without making decisions to do so based on potential exposure. This was the background to his announcement that although they could re-open the physical shop, they were not going to. The space was too tight for social distancing, and therefore not safe to use.

They did, however, re-open virtually. If you weren't sure about what type of shoe you might need, they had a protocol for a virtual shoe selection based on tracing of your feet plus video of your running. They are now doing in-person assessments, but not inside the store. Social distancing would not be possible there. They have lawn umbrellas set up outside. No mask? They'll revert to the virtual protocol.Time and again, they have stressed keeping both their staff and all their customers safe.

In that regard, the owner told the husband that he was extremely concerned about the university's decision to allow students to return for in-person classes. The shop is in the main student retail sector, and the students here for the summer move in packs, no distancing, and no masks. Expand that to the number of students there would be in the fall, and the conditions would be ripe for a true surge in new cases. The owner noted that there was no real leadership coming out of the university's administration, particularly the president who just happens to be a serious runner. He told the husband he planned to express that sentiment to the president in a phone call later today. I wonder if it will do any good.

I have been fighting a battle with feeling down and/or helpless. Interestingly, though, those feelings come not from the pandemic but from emptying the house. Actually, emptying is not as huge an issue as basically not knowing where certain things are. The husband and I have been playing cribbage on vacation since our honeymoon. I thought I had put the cribbage board we use (one of more than a few in our collection) in with preliminary things to take to the cabin. It's not there, though, likely meaning it ended up in a box that got put somewhere. I do have one arriving from Amazon on Friday, but still. Things should not be places I don't know about or could not reach even if I knew.

And beyond the not knowing where things are, the unpacking will not be pleasant. The husband and older son have gotten a huge thrill out of playing three-dimensional tetris putting things in younger son's former bedroom. (Photo to come.) Part of that tetris means that things were put where they fit, not in any order of preference or need in terms of unpacking. God forbid that I need to wear a dress (good thing I'm hermitting) because I think all the clothes I had hanging in the closet are somewhere on the top level (hooyah for cathedral ceilings) and all the way in the back. It is now six months from when I started packing things, and it may take longer to unpack and put everything away. At least that will give me one more chance at downsizing a bit.

As far as the pandemic is going, I actually feel a bit numb (well, at least today). As I said at the outset, we're fucked. I won't be going anywhere out in public for quite some time. The next thing written on my calendar is the Fall Fiber Festival the first weekend in October. Much as I enjoy working there, not to mention being paid in merchandise, there is no way to maintain social distance in the confines of the vendor tents. I am actually surprised that, as of last week, the festival had not been cancelled. After that is an October appointment with my otolaryngologist to check the screw in my skull. (It's an abutment for a BAHA unit, which is a bone-assisted hearing aid.) I can easily reschedule that. The November general election will be a bigger deal. I will have to feel comfortable with how the county's electoral board plans to protect officers of election. The June primary was the first election since November 2004 at which I did not work. But again, if I can't feel safe, I won't be doing it.

I can control my actions and reactions, but I can't control those of other people. If the kids at the beach want to party raucously without masks or distance, they will. I won't be there. If the university students want to attend frat parties, they will (unless they don't come back). Thanks to older son and the husband, I can remain my definition of safe at least for now. If I can't at some point, I'll deal with it then. In the meantime, yeah, we're fucked.