I was in a zoom meeting where the topic of the different phases of home quarantine came up, with amusement. The first week was the week of fear and hiding under a blanket. The second week was the week of being determined not to set a foot out the door. The third week was the week of boredom and insanity. And now we've moved on to the fourth week.
(Of course, none of the people in the meeting are sheltering at home with kids, so insert additional cycles of crazy if you are.)
For me, the fourth week feels like I've kind of figured out how to manage this, for me with my own needs and mental health issues--and although I do have diagnosable mental health issues, I think all of us who are sheltering in place need to be careful of our mental health, even those who don't normally have issues.
I'm feeling like a more-or-less competent adult again, which I was not last week. In hindsight, I think part of what I was dealing with was the feeling of helplessness-- not so much being helpless with fear, but feeling like there is nothing I can do to help. So maybe it's not so much helpless as it is useless. Dean, Mel, and a host of other people I know are actively doing things to help, medically and socially, but I'm just here at home, making granola, reading, and doing my bit to stay home and keep our community safe.
And that's still what I'm doing. But I did get out and do a two-hour shift at the food bank today, for the first time in almost six weeks. Everyone is required to wear masks and gloves and maintain six foot boundaries, and clients are now having their food delivered curbside rather than coming in to the pantry.
So it's different than normal, but it felt so good to be doing something. And also to see my food bank friends. So I think maybe if I do that a couple of times a week in addition to the other things I know I need to do (exercise, meditate, spend some time outside, check in with friends and family, avoid stressful/depressing TV/movies/books), I should be good.
It's also possible that the entire reason I'm feeling better is because suddenly the weather is amazing. It hit seventy today, and the sun is bright. That's not unheard of around here for mid-April, but it is a change from the last couple of weeks and I'm grateful.
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Friday, April 17, 2020
Day Whatever; getting better at balance
I decided a couple of days ago that I needed to stop being online so much, so I spent the last couple of days being offline. Mostly. But that didn't work either. I've been getting a little crazy.
Then I finished a zoom meeting with some of my friends a little while ago and listening to all the online resources they're using right now, I realized that what I need is to be more judicious about where I'm spending my time. Less news, more interactive socializing. Less helpless anger, more trust in the essential goodness of the universe.
I'm a little astonished at how much that zoom meeting cheered me up. Remember a few months ago when I told you that women in groups made me crazy? Well, apparently sometimes they don't. Picture me eating major crow. This was exactly what I needed, and I am feeling so grateful for my women friends right now. We've had each other's backs for a long time now-- this group has met in some form or another for at least a dozen years now.
So I'm sorting through and figuring out what works for me. For example, I've never been a big Twitter user, but I've checked it every ten or twelve days, and it has never failed (in the past) to cheer me up. People can be so creative and funny, and since I wasn't checking in very often, I only saw the highly rated tweets--which apparently in my feed means the funny, uplifting ones.
But every time I've checked in on Twitter over the past three weeks, I've come away angry and depressed and frustrated. I'm not sure what the difference is, but no more Twitter for me. Likewise, Instagram has not really been a source of support recently. But oddly, Facebook-- which I've barely tolerated for years now-- has been great. And zoom meetings with friends have been a lifesaver.
The Ten Percent Happier app, which I've talked about before, is hosting a daily free live meditation at 3pm Eastern during the coronavirus shutdown, and although I have yet to make it to the live version, I've listened to several of them the next morning (they're recorded) and they're helpful and uplifting. My friends talked about free classes they're taking and thoughtful resources they're reading, which I'm going to check out. I need to do better at staying sane, I think.
And if my rant from a couple of days ago came across as too much, apologies about that. I should have held off for 24 hours before posting it so I could tone down the wording a little. It's certainly not the fault of these women that they're pushing my buttons about aging. My problem, entirely. When we lived in North Carolina, they had an extremely useful phrase when someone was being obnoxious-- "she really showed her ass"-- and I think I've been doing that a fair amount over the past few months (occasionally here, more often irl). I may show my ass, but I'm learning.
Have a great weekend. If you want to watch a silly, funny, not-oscar-worthy movie, we enjoyed Spies in Disguise, which I barely even knew about since we're empty nesters now. It was a slow starter for me, but then I giggled all the way through.
Then I finished a zoom meeting with some of my friends a little while ago and listening to all the online resources they're using right now, I realized that what I need is to be more judicious about where I'm spending my time. Less news, more interactive socializing. Less helpless anger, more trust in the essential goodness of the universe.
I'm a little astonished at how much that zoom meeting cheered me up. Remember a few months ago when I told you that women in groups made me crazy? Well, apparently sometimes they don't. Picture me eating major crow. This was exactly what I needed, and I am feeling so grateful for my women friends right now. We've had each other's backs for a long time now-- this group has met in some form or another for at least a dozen years now.
So I'm sorting through and figuring out what works for me. For example, I've never been a big Twitter user, but I've checked it every ten or twelve days, and it has never failed (in the past) to cheer me up. People can be so creative and funny, and since I wasn't checking in very often, I only saw the highly rated tweets--which apparently in my feed means the funny, uplifting ones.
But every time I've checked in on Twitter over the past three weeks, I've come away angry and depressed and frustrated. I'm not sure what the difference is, but no more Twitter for me. Likewise, Instagram has not really been a source of support recently. But oddly, Facebook-- which I've barely tolerated for years now-- has been great. And zoom meetings with friends have been a lifesaver.
The Ten Percent Happier app, which I've talked about before, is hosting a daily free live meditation at 3pm Eastern during the coronavirus shutdown, and although I have yet to make it to the live version, I've listened to several of them the next morning (they're recorded) and they're helpful and uplifting. My friends talked about free classes they're taking and thoughtful resources they're reading, which I'm going to check out. I need to do better at staying sane, I think.
And if my rant from a couple of days ago came across as too much, apologies about that. I should have held off for 24 hours before posting it so I could tone down the wording a little. It's certainly not the fault of these women that they're pushing my buttons about aging. My problem, entirely. When we lived in North Carolina, they had an extremely useful phrase when someone was being obnoxious-- "she really showed her ass"-- and I think I've been doing that a fair amount over the past few months (occasionally here, more often irl). I may show my ass, but I'm learning.
Have a great weekend. If you want to watch a silly, funny, not-oscar-worthy movie, we enjoyed Spies in Disguise, which I barely even knew about since we're empty nesters now. It was a slow starter for me, but then I giggled all the way through.
Wednesday, April 15, 2020
Day 19: in which I revisit (of all things) skin care
I told you last fall how tired I was of listening to women I admire go on and on about skincare. As I said at the time, it's not that I'm opposed to taking care of my skin. In fact, in the very next paragraph, I undercut my entire complaint by telling you about a new favorite skincare product. I did that on purpose to confess that as bored as I am with the whole topic, it's still something I think about. The hypocrisy is right there.
But it keeps happening. Last night I finally figured out why it bugs me so much--hence, this post.
I am 58, which means (obviously) I am knocking on the door of 60. And when I hear these women, who are mostly in their 30s and 40s, going on and on about skincare, what I hear is an undercurrent of panic about aging. I am determined not to look old. I am not going to look like someone who doesn't take care of their skin. I am not going to be one of "those women" that people look at with pity and think, she sure hasn't aged well!
And I get that. I can sink into that panic. I am almost sixty. But here's the thing: it's age shaming. What's wrong with looking old? What's wrong with looking your age? Is it so horrible to look like you're 58? I mean, if we're lucky, we're going to get old. Why are we looking at it with such deep-seated shame and dread?
Even if you haven't "aged well," it's not necessarily a horrible thing. If you've got wrinkles and lines and leathery skin, but the soul peering out of your eyes is vibrant and kind and compassionate, you're the woman I want to emulate.
There. I've said my piece. Apologies for the rant. I finally had to unfollow one of my all-time favorite podcasts (not one of the bookish ones), because they just couldn't leave it alone.
But it keeps happening. Last night I finally figured out why it bugs me so much--hence, this post.
I am 58, which means (obviously) I am knocking on the door of 60. And when I hear these women, who are mostly in their 30s and 40s, going on and on about skincare, what I hear is an undercurrent of panic about aging. I am determined not to look old. I am not going to look like someone who doesn't take care of their skin. I am not going to be one of "those women" that people look at with pity and think, she sure hasn't aged well!
And I get that. I can sink into that panic. I am almost sixty. But here's the thing: it's age shaming. What's wrong with looking old? What's wrong with looking your age? Is it so horrible to look like you're 58? I mean, if we're lucky, we're going to get old. Why are we looking at it with such deep-seated shame and dread?
Even if you haven't "aged well," it's not necessarily a horrible thing. If you've got wrinkles and lines and leathery skin, but the soul peering out of your eyes is vibrant and kind and compassionate, you're the woman I want to emulate.
There. I've said my piece. Apologies for the rant. I finally had to unfollow one of my all-time favorite podcasts (not one of the bookish ones), because they just couldn't leave it alone.
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
Day 18: in which I bore you because I am bored: Georgette Heyer, audiobooks, and free samples
After a quick scroll through bookstagram, it's obvious that almost universally, book lovers are having trouble reading anything but comfort reads. A few people are looking for thrillers or true crime to keep them sucked into a story, but most of us just want to read something that feels positive and leaves us feeling uplifted instead of despairing.
In the past few weeks, I've re-read a favorite series from childhood (Wizard of Earthsea, by Ursula LeGuin), Diary of a Bookseller by Shaun Bythell, and a couple of romance novels (Red, White, and Royal Blue and Love Lettering) that worked for that. Also The Lager Queen of Minnesota, which isn't exactly a comfort read, but has lovable characters who have to deal with a variety of different (occasionally hilarious) life situations, and resolves in a thoroughly satisfying way.
But really, what I'm mainly doing is re-reading Georgette Heyer. You may remember my first obsession with her if you've been around for awhile. She's not a perfect writer-- you have to forgive her inordinate love of exclamation points, and you have to be able to skim over her sometimes excessive use of period slang. But once you get past those flaws, they're so much fun. Some of them I would say even qualify as romps.
This time around, I started with Black Sheep, which wasn't one of my top favorites, but I remembered liking it. It worked so well that I moved on to Reluctant Widow. Now I'm reading Cotillion, which is one of my top faves of hers. Maybe my #1 favorite.
The problem with Cotillion is that there's vast cast of characters, and it takes awhile to figure out who's important and how they are related to each other. Kitty, an orphan who has lived for years with her miserly, wealthy guardian, is outraged when he more or less puts her up on the marriage auction block to his grand nephews. Since she is penniless on her own, she comes up with a plot to get at least a month in London, a last moment of freedom, before she has to accept the inevitable and figure out what she's going to do. Of course that gets more and more complicated, and then she meets other people and gets involved in their complications, and the whole thing is just a delight.
Spoiler alert: it ends happily for everyone; well, except for the people who deserve what they get.
And, bonus: the audiobooks are fabulous. The narrator of Cotillion, Phyllida Nash, is a genius. I made Dean listen to it the other night while we were working on a jigsaw puzzle, and he was so hooked that he ended up reading the whole thing. Just give it time, because it takes awhile to get oriented to all the characters, and Kitty's complicated plans.
And here is a clue for taking advantage of Amazon. Amazon has always allowed you download a free sample of a kindle ebook or an audiobook (through their subsidiary, Audible). The audiobook samples stream, and even if you don't have a kindle, you can download the kindle app and take advantage of the free samples. It usually amounts to about 20 pages of an ebook, or about five minutes of an audiobook. Why not use them?
I've had it work both ways--sometimes the five minute sample of an audiobook helps me get into a print book I'm having trouble with (for example, Gods in Alabama). Sometimes the 25 page sample of the ebook helps me get a complicated cast of characters straight when the audiobook feels like chaos (for example, And Then There Were None, which is ably read by Dan Stevens, but introduces so many characters in the first chapter that I was bewildered until I was able to read the print version).
That's it for me today. Thank you for letting me go on and on, since I am now considerably less bored than I was yesterday. Did I tell you yet that MadMax came home on Friday? Our internet may not be up to the task of his online classes, but he had had enough of living alone in an apartment during shelter in place. It's nice to have some company.
In the past few weeks, I've re-read a favorite series from childhood (Wizard of Earthsea, by Ursula LeGuin), Diary of a Bookseller by Shaun Bythell, and a couple of romance novels (Red, White, and Royal Blue and Love Lettering) that worked for that. Also The Lager Queen of Minnesota, which isn't exactly a comfort read, but has lovable characters who have to deal with a variety of different (occasionally hilarious) life situations, and resolves in a thoroughly satisfying way.
But really, what I'm mainly doing is re-reading Georgette Heyer. You may remember my first obsession with her if you've been around for awhile. She's not a perfect writer-- you have to forgive her inordinate love of exclamation points, and you have to be able to skim over her sometimes excessive use of period slang. But once you get past those flaws, they're so much fun. Some of them I would say even qualify as romps.
 |
| Stack of books by Georgette Heyer |
The problem with Cotillion is that there's vast cast of characters, and it takes awhile to figure out who's important and how they are related to each other. Kitty, an orphan who has lived for years with her miserly, wealthy guardian, is outraged when he more or less puts her up on the marriage auction block to his grand nephews. Since she is penniless on her own, she comes up with a plot to get at least a month in London, a last moment of freedom, before she has to accept the inevitable and figure out what she's going to do. Of course that gets more and more complicated, and then she meets other people and gets involved in their complications, and the whole thing is just a delight.
Spoiler alert: it ends happily for everyone; well, except for the people who deserve what they get.
And, bonus: the audiobooks are fabulous. The narrator of Cotillion, Phyllida Nash, is a genius. I made Dean listen to it the other night while we were working on a jigsaw puzzle, and he was so hooked that he ended up reading the whole thing. Just give it time, because it takes awhile to get oriented to all the characters, and Kitty's complicated plans.
And here is a clue for taking advantage of Amazon. Amazon has always allowed you download a free sample of a kindle ebook or an audiobook (through their subsidiary, Audible). The audiobook samples stream, and even if you don't have a kindle, you can download the kindle app and take advantage of the free samples. It usually amounts to about 20 pages of an ebook, or about five minutes of an audiobook. Why not use them?
I've had it work both ways--sometimes the five minute sample of an audiobook helps me get into a print book I'm having trouble with (for example, Gods in Alabama). Sometimes the 25 page sample of the ebook helps me get a complicated cast of characters straight when the audiobook feels like chaos (for example, And Then There Were None, which is ably read by Dan Stevens, but introduces so many characters in the first chapter that I was bewildered until I was able to read the print version).
That's it for me today. Thank you for letting me go on and on, since I am now considerably less bored than I was yesterday. Did I tell you yet that MadMax came home on Friday? Our internet may not be up to the task of his online classes, but he had had enough of living alone in an apartment during shelter in place. It's nice to have some company.
Monday, April 13, 2020
Day 17: grumpiness sets in
I'm fine. I don't want to make this sound like I need sympathy. I have it so much easier than most-- no five-year-olds are following me around the house wanting to be entertained, I am not worried that we're going to run out of food or that our heat will be shut off. But good freaking lord am I bored with my house.
That is all.
That is all.
Thursday, April 9, 2020
day 13: essential or not essential, that is the question
The shelter-in-place order in Montana allows for "essential" activities like grocery shopping, trips to the pharmacy or post office, and outdoor activities, as long as social distancing is maintained.
It's interesting to me how widely this gets interpreted. I have friends who literally have not left their house in weeks. I've also seen people around town who don't seem to have modified their activities at all. My own thought was that I would go out once a week, and with one exception, I've stuck with that.
But by Tuesday, I just needed to get out of the house. I've decided not to count trips where I have no contact with other human beings. That afternoon, I drove through one of those unattended car washes and then sat in the (empty) parking lot at our church to borrow the wi-fi. Earlier this week, I had another exception: Lynne, my alternative health care practitioner, is still seeing clients if you don't have symptoms, and I've been to see her once.
So, why am I telling you this? I guess because I'm trying to figure it out. I bounce back and forth between feeling guilty for how "often" I've been out of the house (when I talk to one of my fully cloistered friends), and feeling like I'm absurdly restrictive, when a friend was shocked that I hadn't been out of our house for six days (other than walking the dog).
My sister sent me a meme that said "2020 is an unusual Leap Year: there are 29 days in February, 300 days in March, and 5 years in April." And although I don't really mind staying home, I get that. I completely forgot about a meeting I had yesterday until I got an email yesterday morning canceling it. I hadn't looked at my calendar in ages. Maybe I should do that. Or maybe I should go back to reading my book.
It's interesting to me how widely this gets interpreted. I have friends who literally have not left their house in weeks. I've also seen people around town who don't seem to have modified their activities at all. My own thought was that I would go out once a week, and with one exception, I've stuck with that.
But by Tuesday, I just needed to get out of the house. I've decided not to count trips where I have no contact with other human beings. That afternoon, I drove through one of those unattended car washes and then sat in the (empty) parking lot at our church to borrow the wi-fi. Earlier this week, I had another exception: Lynne, my alternative health care practitioner, is still seeing clients if you don't have symptoms, and I've been to see her once.
So, why am I telling you this? I guess because I'm trying to figure it out. I bounce back and forth between feeling guilty for how "often" I've been out of the house (when I talk to one of my fully cloistered friends), and feeling like I'm absurdly restrictive, when a friend was shocked that I hadn't been out of our house for six days (other than walking the dog).
My sister sent me a meme that said "2020 is an unusual Leap Year: there are 29 days in February, 300 days in March, and 5 years in April." And although I don't really mind staying home, I get that. I completely forgot about a meeting I had yesterday until I got an email yesterday morning canceling it. I hadn't looked at my calendar in ages. Maybe I should do that. Or maybe I should go back to reading my book.
Wednesday, April 8, 2020
day 12: I had to count how many days it had been
When I was in third grade, I had a favorite dress. It was cotton and long sleeved, with patch pockets, and it zipped up the front, all the way to my collarbones. Also, it was brown, red, and gold skinny-striped. I am not making this up. It was the sixties. Oh, how I loved that dress.
My mom wouldn't let me wear it two days in a row, but I wore it every time it went through the laundry. Which sometimes meant I wore it two or three times a week.
I am right back there now. Nobody sees me, so I can just wear my favorite clothes every time they're clean. My favorite t-shirt with the graphic of Brooklyn Bridge, my favorite jeans which are probably indecent from behind but are comfy-plus, and my favorite sweatshirt. Wearing my favorite clothes is #1 on the list of things that are making me happy right now. Well, that and the sunshine, which is back again today after several days of absence.
I should know after blogging as long as I have that you never make big sweeping statements like I did in that last post about lighting a candle for coronoavrius solidarity, because I promptly forgot about it that night and last night. I didn't remember until 11:30 the first night, and 10:15 last night. But I still did it, and it is oddly meaningful to me to sit in the dark for ten or fifteen minutes with a lit candle.
I tried to add a picture from last night of the full moon, but my grossly inefficient yet tried-and-true method for adding pictures to a blog post didn't work today, and I have no idea why. Moon pictures never do justice to the real thing anyway. Hope you're hanging in there.
My mom wouldn't let me wear it two days in a row, but I wore it every time it went through the laundry. Which sometimes meant I wore it two or three times a week.
I am right back there now. Nobody sees me, so I can just wear my favorite clothes every time they're clean. My favorite t-shirt with the graphic of Brooklyn Bridge, my favorite jeans which are probably indecent from behind but are comfy-plus, and my favorite sweatshirt. Wearing my favorite clothes is #1 on the list of things that are making me happy right now. Well, that and the sunshine, which is back again today after several days of absence.
I should know after blogging as long as I have that you never make big sweeping statements like I did in that last post about lighting a candle for coronoavrius solidarity, because I promptly forgot about it that night and last night. I didn't remember until 11:30 the first night, and 10:15 last night. But I still did it, and it is oddly meaningful to me to sit in the dark for ten or fifteen minutes with a lit candle.
I tried to add a picture from last night of the full moon, but my grossly inefficient yet tried-and-true method for adding pictures to a blog post didn't work today, and I have no idea why. Moon pictures never do justice to the real thing anyway. Hope you're hanging in there.
Monday, April 6, 2020
Day 10: candle light
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| My cat with a candle. Best I could do in full daylight. |
Sunday, April 5, 2020
Day 9: in which I cut my own bangs
Dean prides himself on noticing when I get my hair cut, but otherwise, he never mentions my hair at all. So yesterday, when he reached over and brushed my bangs off my face and said, you've got hair in your eyes, I decided it was time to do something about it.
Vanessa, who has been cutting my hair for at least a dozen years now, had to close down her shop, of course. I did my best to copy her method-- cut straight across, just below the line of my eyebrows, then hold the scissors vertically and make tiny, eighth-inch v-cuts so it's not so much like a bowl cut.
It takes her about 40 seconds, but ten minutes later, I wasn't sure I quite had it right. At least I don't have hair in my eyes anymore, and I don't think Zoom's picture quality is good enough for anyone else to notice.
Other self-sufficient tasks I've accomplished in the past two weeks: made yogurt in the Instant Pot (the first time I'd used my Instant Pot in over a year), and made granola from scratch. Both were acceptably successful, but the Instant Pot yogurt requires a half-gallon of milk and half a cup of yogurt to get it started, so it isn't exactly something you can do from pantry staples.
(Hence, the need for yogurt I mentioned on Friday. But if you have to buy yogurt to get it started, couldn't you just buy your yogurt? *cough* Apparently I don't have the Ma Ingalls mindset.)(yeah, I know, I used to make yogurt all the time.)
#stayhealthystayhome
Vanessa, who has been cutting my hair for at least a dozen years now, had to close down her shop, of course. I did my best to copy her method-- cut straight across, just below the line of my eyebrows, then hold the scissors vertically and make tiny, eighth-inch v-cuts so it's not so much like a bowl cut.
It takes her about 40 seconds, but ten minutes later, I wasn't sure I quite had it right. At least I don't have hair in my eyes anymore, and I don't think Zoom's picture quality is good enough for anyone else to notice.
Other self-sufficient tasks I've accomplished in the past two weeks: made yogurt in the Instant Pot (the first time I'd used my Instant Pot in over a year), and made granola from scratch. Both were acceptably successful, but the Instant Pot yogurt requires a half-gallon of milk and half a cup of yogurt to get it started, so it isn't exactly something you can do from pantry staples.
(Hence, the need for yogurt I mentioned on Friday. But if you have to buy yogurt to get it started, couldn't you just buy your yogurt? *cough* Apparently I don't have the Ma Ingalls mindset.)(yeah, I know, I used to make yogurt all the time.)
#stayhealthystayhome
Friday, April 3, 2020
Day 7: the beat goes on
Around here, there are two main types of winter weather: overcast with highs in the 30s, or sunny and clear but bitter cold. It's not that we never see the sun in the winter, it's just that when we do, it's usually seven degrees with a windchill of minus ten.
So for me, one of the surest signs of spring is when I go outside and the sun feels warm. That happened today. It's only about 42, but I took the dog down to feed our one remaining chicken, and as I stood in the field endlessly throwing her tennis ball, the sun on my back was so warm that if I'd stayed much longer I would have taken off my jacket.
Had a conversation with friends today about how our pets and the world around us are oblivious to the anxiety and fear we're experiencing. Spring is coming. There was a squirrel eating out of our bird feeder. Sadie chases her ball. The cat proudly left a mouse outside the sliding glass door yesterday. It's not enough to entirely calm my mind, but it helps.
I made it to Target and the grocery store today, to grab a few items that were running low: printer paper, toothpaste, yogurt. Fortunately, all were in stock. If you're local, the SuperOne in the middle of town still had toilet paper at 9:30 this morning. Not much, and I didn't buy any, but at least it is reappearing.
So for me, one of the surest signs of spring is when I go outside and the sun feels warm. That happened today. It's only about 42, but I took the dog down to feed our one remaining chicken, and as I stood in the field endlessly throwing her tennis ball, the sun on my back was so warm that if I'd stayed much longer I would have taken off my jacket.
Had a conversation with friends today about how our pets and the world around us are oblivious to the anxiety and fear we're experiencing. Spring is coming. There was a squirrel eating out of our bird feeder. Sadie chases her ball. The cat proudly left a mouse outside the sliding glass door yesterday. It's not enough to entirely calm my mind, but it helps. I made it to Target and the grocery store today, to grab a few items that were running low: printer paper, toothpaste, yogurt. Fortunately, all were in stock. If you're local, the SuperOne in the middle of town still had toilet paper at 9:30 this morning. Not much, and I didn't buy any, but at least it is reappearing.
Thursday, April 2, 2020
Day 6: checking in
I have not been a deny-er about this virus, from the very first moment we heard it was coming to the US. But I will admit to not getting it-- I understood it in my head, but not really. It's so sad and horrifying to see pictures of lost loved ones, exhausted doctors, and projections of how much worse it's probably going to get.
I told Dean the other night that I thought Montana had started the shelter-in-place directive too soon, because really we don't have much COVID-19 here compared to the rest of the country, and people are going to get tired of it and start going back out again. But he shook his head and said that we got it exactly right. If we're lucky, we will avoid getting into a situation like New York, which became dire before anybody fully realized what was happening.
Since the incubation period seems to be anywhere from 5 to 14 days, it's not even really anyone's fault, none of us knew what we were up against when it first started. It makes me so angry when I hear politicians trying to politicize this and make it about the other party screwing it up. It's a virus, a freaking pandemic, and it's the first time any of us has been through this, and could we just cut each other some slack for once. Stop arguing about whose fault it is, get our butts in gear, and problem solve.
OK, that's my rant for the day, which is a little ridiculous since I am in no position to problem solve. Dean and his colleagues are the heroes right now.
Other than walking the dog and driving out to the letterbox yesterday to mail some cards--I never even got out of the car-- I haven't left the house since Friday. That is not really a problem for introverted me, but even introverts need variety and human interaction. I'm lucky I have Dean home in the evenings. I'm going to start posting more often and (I hope) shorter posts. Not because I think any of you need to read what I'm thinking, but because I need it--I'm doing my best to stay sane. My #1 best change so far is to stop checking the news so often. Once in the morning and once at night is plenty.
I told Dean the other night that I thought Montana had started the shelter-in-place directive too soon, because really we don't have much COVID-19 here compared to the rest of the country, and people are going to get tired of it and start going back out again. But he shook his head and said that we got it exactly right. If we're lucky, we will avoid getting into a situation like New York, which became dire before anybody fully realized what was happening.
Since the incubation period seems to be anywhere from 5 to 14 days, it's not even really anyone's fault, none of us knew what we were up against when it first started. It makes me so angry when I hear politicians trying to politicize this and make it about the other party screwing it up. It's a virus, a freaking pandemic, and it's the first time any of us has been through this, and could we just cut each other some slack for once. Stop arguing about whose fault it is, get our butts in gear, and problem solve.
OK, that's my rant for the day, which is a little ridiculous since I am in no position to problem solve. Dean and his colleagues are the heroes right now.
Other than walking the dog and driving out to the letterbox yesterday to mail some cards--I never even got out of the car-- I haven't left the house since Friday. That is not really a problem for introverted me, but even introverts need variety and human interaction. I'm lucky I have Dean home in the evenings. I'm going to start posting more often and (I hope) shorter posts. Not because I think any of you need to read what I'm thinking, but because I need it--I'm doing my best to stay sane. My #1 best change so far is to stop checking the news so often. Once in the morning and once at night is plenty.