Initially when everything closed because of the virus, it was supposed to be for two weeks. Although annoying, you can do anything for two weeks. I looked at it as an opportunity to do things I don’t normally do.
I started cooking up a storm. Everything was made at home. I even made pizza from scratch. Twice! There were stir-fries and roasts and burgers. It was all wonderful. Then I got tired of it all. I had to continue cooking but we could supplement with some take-out. It’s amazing how great someone else’s cooking tastes when you don’t get it often.
The timing kept getting extended and rules were ever evolving. I took apart nightgowns to make masks and wore gloves at the grocery store. We finally found a hand sanitizer we could keep in the car but it smelled weird. It was supposed to be citrusy but it didn’t smell like any citrus I ever had. Nonetheless I lathered it on after every alien doorknob encounter.
Then there were the projects. We cleaned out a particularly overgrown corner of the house. Pulled the weeds and put mulch down. Transplanted irises and coddled my tomato plants. Then I got sick of doing that.
In reality the heat moved in and doing anything outside during the middle of the day was deadly so I moved indoors. Another major purge. I’ve been purging for so long I can’t believe we have anything left. I swear junk makes babies when we are sleeping.
During this time I had a sick cat. It’s not a good time for any living creature to be sick especially a pet. As a result of the worst veterinarian care I ever encountered, I lost my beloved pet. Out of everything that has happened so far this will remain the most traumatic result of the pandemic for me. I know there is some time to go so something else could happen but I hope not.
Now we are at another weird time. People are so over it. They aren’t into the spirit of “we’re in this together.” Me too but we don’t get to say when it’s over. Nor does our politicians. People are gathering without masks (which are mandatory when in groups in our state). Kids are partially back in school. Fingers crossed for that. School sports start and stop as the virus spreads. No one has patience. No one wants to miss anything.
My grandfather died in the Spanish flu epidemic in 1918. That one lasted three years. The plague lasted five years. I will be very grateful if we can get this under control by next year. Hopefully I will look back on it as a year that I learned what patience and kindness was.
I should make scratch pizza again. It’s been a while and it’s very satisfying. Maybe the cycles start over.