DAY 66 - WEDNESDAY, MAY 21

DAY 67 - THURSDAY, MAY 20

DAY 65 - TUESDAY, MAY 19

deep silence, stand off -

only if we surrender.

quarantine victims?

DAY 64 - MONDAY, MAY 18

deep silence, stand off -

only if we surrender.

quarantine victims?

DAY 63, SUNDAY, MAY 17

Wisteria creeps, 

blooms, invades, chokes, waving long

tendrils that I cut. 

DAY 62 - SATURDAY, MAY 16

Ending strategy -
Thoughts keep circling back to it,
Lease ends, September.

DAY 61 - FRIDAY, MAY 15

B and I set up

tiny tent, perfect playroom.

cocooned in softness.

DAY 60 - THURSDAY, MAY 14

Sculpture park bike ride:

the four of us cycling as

one family - sweet.

DAY 59 - WEDNESDAY, MAY 13

Another morning 

meeting, minutes slipping by -

Family bike ride!

DAY 58 - TUESDAY, MAY 12

Seven hills pick-up, 

post office, bank, trail run -

Discovery Park. 

DAY 57 - MONDAY, MAY 11

Peonies, roses, 

lilies and tulips - painted

rock, eggs, mandalas.

Jaylene's smile bright, 

belly round, the open door -

soon there will be three.

DAY 56 - SUNDAY, MAY 10

Indecision - late

morning turning afternoon

finally leaving -

Mountain Loop transformed -

festival camping, cars, trash, 

but the gate still closed.

Snow-free all the way

to Barlow Pass! Big Four, Ice

Caves, Monte Cristo.

DAY 55 - SATURDAY, MAY 9

Summer planning please -
my desire to explore
unknown Washington.

Aeneas Valley,
Loomis, Oroville,
dotted lines on map.

DAY 54 - FRIDAY, MAY 8

Almost, on the tip
of my tongue, words of love said
to close the meeting.

Two coolers - one for
eggs, another post-ride snacks -
eastward, Darrington.

Whitehorse - I could not
shift my gaze from it's presence.
Dreaming of full moon.

DAY 53 - THURSDAY, MAY 7

Bread farm decadence,

terramar IPA: Bow-

Edison delights.

V drove the Tesla -

we talked parenting, future

life, the airstream gift.

DAY 52

I still see the dirt,
fingernails reminding
me of softness, depth.

B and I - pinecone
collectors, we are, filling
wheelbarrow, together.

DAY 51

permission granted
to cruise the middle fork of
Snoqualmie River!

DAY 50

couples counseling
was supposed to be for just
one issue. real fear.

DAY 49

Sleeping eludes me
now, stomach pains a constant
reminder of loss.

However, I rose
from the couch, showered and dressed,
packed up and drove off.

First I talked to C,
newly inspired - her art
fills, expands, her heart.

Next, I talked to R,
wise, wild, insightful - rain
our background music.

A called just as I
arrived. Her voicemail stored -
road trip plans, searching.

New route: suddenly
gravel, dead end, wrong mapping!
Back on Highway 10.

This is my purpose -
cycling fills the hours with
acute bliss, strength, peace.

DAY 48

I am a teacher
but not a parent, unsure
how to navigate.

DAY 47

"rescuer, victim
and perpetrator," he said.
existential guilt.

DAY 46

It was almost noon
when I showered, hot water
and peppermint soap.

Surprised by a knock -
I greeted R at front door
in a small towel.

A gift! One thousand
piece puzzle and chocolate!
For her: micro-greens.

Masked, washed, I entered
Grocery Outlet buying
salty, sweet, sour treats.

DAY 45

Eastern yellows, sage.
Memories of that summer
cycling canyons, hills.

Highway hum calms me.
Carpets of yellow petaled
daisies. Prairie greens.

Did I see a fox???
Certainly lupine, hawksbeard,
a cluster of cows.

DAY 44

And I am thinking:
just looking, listening, being -
is the truest work.

DAY 43

Collective trauma,
shared sorrow, unequally
distributed death.

DAY 42

Instead of metal
roll-down doors there is plywood
covering windows.

Ballard Avenue -
puddles of pink petals, weeds.
Murals, poetry.

I refuse to stay
home. Let me wander only
with friends fern, moss, tree.

DAY 41

Carkeek beginning.
Blue Ridge curves, peaks, luxury.
Golden Garden birds.

Along Burke-Gilman
Ballard ghosts, cobblestones, bridge.
Past moored boats, locks, locked.

Industrial leads
to Discovery, the bluffs
of Magnolia.

Cruising through chain link
headwind, Myrtle Edwards crowds,
empty waterfront.

Continuing - straight.
the lower bridge open to
bikes, Alki finish. 

DAY 40

DAY 39

new chain ring, tires, tubes,
wireless odometer.
such kindness disarms.

DAY 38

R fills my car with

love and treats. Northbound I am -

for delivery.

Macaroon pickup.

Door opens quickly, bag passed.

Now where can I pee???

White wine in R's yard.

Forest walk with V, Hazel.

more anger with D.

Teach me acceptance,

please. Teach me peace, instead of

meanness, frustration. 

DAY 37

Wednesday. What happened?
Enhanced colors, rainy day.
Anne with an E, tea.

DAY 36

Accusatory
text received during weekly
shopping. Such fury!

My anger simmered
until nightfall, dinnertime.
Finally released.

Zoom Yoga with 3 -
29 invites were sent.
Were they still sleeping?

Zoom Yoga with 4 -
Joellen is 84!
A sweet connection.

And then, my yoga!
Heat, music, mirror, lights dim.
At last! Sweat magic.

DAY 35

What day is today?
Whitewater, towering pine.
Heat, ghost town, secret.

DAY 34

What do I miss most?
Not parties, festivals or
shopping. Hot yoga!

I tried to create
a space, with light, heat, peace, joy
but there is no joy.

Zoom yoga doesn't
work for me - and I can't find
my inspiration.

Instead, beloved
bicycle thrills me, heals me
unlike anything else.

DAY 33

It rained all night, most
of the day. We puzzled, made
cookies, ate them all.

DAY 32

Come forth into the
light of things. Let nature be
your teacher. - Wordsworth

Are friendships falling
apart? Psychological
trauma, distancing.

DAY 31

Willow turned 13 -
daytime drive-by party,
nighttime Zoom slumber.

DAY 30

I dropped off blocks, straps
But forgot to wear my mask
Shamed, I retreated.

Unruly pleasure,
Chocolate mousse eggs, coffee, cream.
Laurelhurst dead ends.

I have been afraid
to transplant fragile seedlings
but today we did!

Pink knee socks, yoga
short shorts, bra top and sneakers
to dig, kneel in, dirt.

DAY 29

Quiz scheduled for 9 -
Trader Joe's line 50 deep
a one hour wait.

Three sweet crumbs, juicy
pineapple, eggs and bacon,
brownies afterward.

During the meeting,
I finished invitations,
blue borders, black ink.

"Yes, we expect you
to do the work your teachers
now ask you to do."

Mountain Loop Highway -
bearded drummer, his arms rise,
descend, beating hearts.

In my mind, holding
the unbreakable circle
guilt, joy, health, peace, life.

DAY 28

Now it is Monday,
Spring Break over, chaos still.
Pink petals floating.

One more dialogue,
Zoom Yoga with two students-
I keep reaching out.

DAY 27

One hour only
Road, rivers, railroads, never
seen before now! What?!

Ben Howard yellow,
white pickets, flooding sunlight -
the hidden Monroe.

Dry riverbed walk
Hopping between stones: large, small
Where is the old road?

DAY 26

Cavanaugh clear cuts,
North shore: sunbeams, South: shadows.
32 miles!

DAY 25

his morning stonewall -
and I yelled, words spilling out.
not my best moment.

Repair came slowly,
A comedy podcast helped.
Time apart, breath work.

Look! Snoqualmie Falls -
another surprise, through trees
where the trail ends.

Coconut mango
chicken, rice, sweet potatoes,
special caramels!

Evening miracle!
The flower petals open,
flutter, singing love.

DAY 24

matcha ritual
postponed. boil, pour, drip dark and
add cream. demon drink.

no breakfast, no keys.
overturned cushions, pillows.
frantic disbelief.

T stood beneath the
blooming magnolia, eyes bright.
eggs, books, words bursting.

Mercer cruise with A,
escape into blinding light
illusion, laughter.

Second loop, alone.
Then egg drop for N,
18 more for M.

Beloved teachers,
all. We are waiting, hoping -
to find our way back.

DAY 23

first, egg delivery.
madame gifts 66!
mothering farmer.

another island.
low tide shimmer, sun bleached shells
nearly four hours.

I waved to colin
between shadow of cedars -
sparkle, a fierceness.

even the ranger
nodded hello, no lecture
just waves, seagulls, me.

DAY 22

with D beside me,
river roar, frog chorus, this
magical secret.

which mountain? still snow
lingers on the tip. milky
river, waterfalls.

empty parking lots.
there, look, another biker -
he understands us.

daily I tell D -
unfolding this tragedy
with him, centers me.

DAY 21

road closed, forever?
seduced by solitude, curves,
forest and river.

here - turn around time.
no signal, spare tube or pump.
a confusing bliss.

DAY 20

https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-52176222

DAY 19

Another disappointing student dialogue - they were reading off their paper instead of having the words practiced, held, understood in their heads. And half the grammar was wrong, the grammar we have practiced since September. But whatever - pointless, really, absolutely pointless. Better to focus on their health, acknowledging their presence, completing the task. Thank you and goodbye.

I ate more cookies afterwards, balanced with an apple, orange, granola and yogurt bowl. Stared at the seedlings, read about Charles Darwin and his wife Emma, started a new, nearly impossible puzzle full of the same colors, piece size. But then B and I made the most delicious cookies - magic cookies! No sugar or flour, held together with overripe banana!

Instead of traveling to Costa Rica today I cruised the Snoqualmie Valley.

DAY 18

I felt -  cynical during Zoom World Language meeting, awkward during Zoom yoga, disappointed during Zoom student dialogues, frustrated by all the ridiculous emails. By 1:30 I wanted to throw the computer against the wall.

And now we are supposed to all wear masks? As the numbers climb, and the newspaper headlines seem more ridiculous and dire, but outside there are the joggers and runners, families on bikes, teenagers skating by, strangely normal, disconnected. When will the trail be closed, the gas rationed to truly keep us home?

Today D and B and I moved the potting table inside, freshly washed and dried, placed it against a bare wall, now the puzzle area. My dear friend R loaned us 3 puzzles (all BC - before corona, not been touched in years) and we three started and finished the 300 piece one in one sitting, so satisfying!

I sometimes dread the evenings after B is in bed -- only because it's movie time and D and W love action movies and slapstick comedies, my nightmare picks! But Hallelujah we jointly discovered the NetFlix series, "Anne with an E" - heartwarming, beautiful, entertaining, sweet, traditional. And there are 3 seasons! I can finally relax!

DAY 17

Self-isolated from 9am-1pm in the bedroom I share with D - trying to get school work done. Emails and Zoom meetings, the novelty already worn off. Everything feels so inefficient and disconnected, back and forth, back and forth, only about 50% of the students responding. Where are the others? Working to support their families? Sleeping in a shelter? Taking care of siblings? Playing videogames?

Meanwhile, I also text family and friends, the daily round of reaching out and checking in. I look at the news, the weather, recipes. I eat mini chocolate peanut butter cups after breakfast, half a milk chocolate with toffee bar before lunch, three chocolate chip cookies a few hours later, 39 plain m&ms after dinner, one and half donuts before bed.

DAY 16

859,556 infected; 42,332 dead; 178,300 recovered.

These numbers are misleading. I want more numbers, deeper ones, categorized ones, county, state, gender, age. I want to know more about the recovered number, how it's determined. I want to know about mild, moderate and severe symptoms. I want average infection time, information about negative test percentages, antibodies. I want to know why South Korea's numbers are barely rising.

I have started looking more at the Washington State Department of Health
https://www.doh.wa.gov/Emergencies/Coronavirus
numbers and charts more closely than the Johns Hopkins ones. I don't trust the world map numbers any longer - China's hasn't moved in days, others show less than 10.

We are number #1 of course, our number climbing higher and higher every hour like it's a weird BlackMirror prize. In this episode the old and sick are not even attended to - it's survival of the youngest and richest, and our president deems the undesirables as being gotten rid of for a reason, it's just their time. Sacrifice them for the economy. And everyone is tested daily, every morning lining up before work to be tested, it's the new normal, simply walking through a machine like at the airport - instant results, impossible to cheat. Negative you go to work, positive you go to quarantine.

DAY 15

New morning routine when the kids aren't with us: snuggle with D, roll out of bed, prepare matcha, take a shower, put on a little make-up, get dressed in something comfortable but nice, make the bed, eat a delicious breakfast, read the Seattle and New York Times, stare at my seedlings.....

and today, have my first Zoom staff meeting. I sat at the kitchen bar, backlit, in a red turtleneck and black sweats. Two rocks, black shiny paint, a freshly washed brush in front of me - a perfect activity to do while listening, half-listening, not listening. 90 Zoom minutes later = we can introduce new material but not grade it. Another 90 Zoom minutes later with just World Language = a group karaoke assignment, comfort, joy at seeing them.

Later, I tried my first Zoom yoga class at a studio in San Jose, Costa Rica with my teacher training instructor Esteban Salazar. I cranked up the heat in the front room, laid out my mat and towel and lasted 15 minutes. Decided to bundle up and run stairs in the rain instead - scooting to the far edge of the stairs whenever passing anyone.

Finally found a way to reach my students as the Skyward message response rate has been less than 3% -- Google Doc! I made a separate Google Doc for each class and asked all students the same two questions: How are doing (feelings)? What have you been doing (activities)? Almost immediately the responses started coming in, the small joy and at seeing who was writing, who was waiting. I had over 50% of students answer by the end of the day! So cool to think they are literally all together as a class on each Doc - am definitely going to try more. 

DAY 14

Lake Washington is the largest freshwater lake in King County and the second largest in the state of Washington, after Lake Chelan. 

My little blue house is perched above it, viewless but so close. A 2 minute and 51 second coast down to the Burke-Gilman, where people are not practicing social distancing. I wish I had an obnoxious horn to blow at offenders when I cruise by. Ha! 

I have several routes, easy ones where I can just plug in my tunes and cruise. But today I decided it was time to break the 2 hour cycling barrier! Once I got to Bellevue the decision was easy - continue to Renton and ride around the lake, oh yes! I stopped near the Seahawks training facility to text the news to D and he responded, "I hope you have enough food and water" and I wrote "me too! And going to eat the chocolate now!"

DAY 13

My tenant S, who lives in my two bedroom condo in Bellingham, gave notice a few weeks ago. He is engaged to a Canadian women and spends most weekends in Vancouver. And, he is tired of sharing a wall with M, the permanently disabled curmudgeon neighbor.

Find a new tenant during a pandemic?

D and I emptied out his subaru, strapped on my Surly, overpacked lunch and snacks then drove north. The plan was to photograph the condo inside and out (tenant S is currently stuck in Vancouver) and collect a rent check from his son. I hadn't been inside the condo in nearly a year and was struck by how lovely it is - and well kept. I had also forgotten how much of my own furniture was still there - vintage lockers, lamps, bookshelf, artwork, several tables and teak chairs, even an old Bianchi road bike! I packed up some art, a couple chairs, a random stool.

Afterwards, D and I headed to Trader Joe's to do a week's worth of shopping up here in Whatcom county, where there are only 111 cases instead 2161 - seems like better odds. There was a line outside, green tape neatly marking 6 foot intervals. I immediately thought of Cuba, the lines, the lines for everything. Wondering, of course, it being 4pm already, would the shelves be empty like Cuba too? The store was completely stocked (except toilet paper!) and it was actually quite pleasant to be two of only 30 shoppers allowed in the store at once. I bought a lot of chocolate - it's what I'm hoarding. I fear running out of chocolate, not toilet paper.

I'm a not a fan of cycling in damp overcast conditions - wait, I mean I wasn't. Until now. Now I seem to love riding in 48 degree drizzle. I just want to be as active as possible for as long as possible! Today I headed south along Chuckanut Drive, dropping into the flats, cruising through beloved Bow and it's bakery (already closed for the day) and into the birdland, white clouds swirling and calling, dropping and swooping, settling back into their marshy rest. I continued to Bayview State Park and kept pedaling, had almost reached Highway 20 when D cruised by in the car and picked me up. 

Roasted red pepper chicken with olives and prunes, wild rice, butternut squash. A few more episodes of -Big Little Lies- while sipping on whiskey. Cozy snuggles and laughter. 

Today almost felt like a normal day.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nmUXntGlqFI

DAY 12

Had a Zoom cocktail party with three friends tonight - drank two martinis and wore a fancy dress. Highly recommended.

D and I had more deep talks today, took a nap, went on a 90 minute bike ride, ate our handmade butter and a lot of chocolate.

Watched a great video with Trevor Noah and Dr Fauci - both wise and calming.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8A3jiM2FNR8

Good night.

DAY 11

D and I leave the bedroom door open when the kids are here. B, the 7 year old, sometimes has nightmares, calls for his papa. The open door is welcoming, especially in the early morning - to light, train and tractor noises, being screamed at, "I'm hungry."

Patiently, or the appearance of patiently, D always says to B, "I'll be right there to make you breakfast." And then he gets up, and I watch him, his beautiful body disappearing into the bathroom where he quickly throws on pants and a fleece top. Before he leaves the bedroom he turns on the fan and closes the door. I fall back to sleep.

This is the routine on weekends and summer mornings. And now weekday ones too.

I want to make peace with this morning storm, it's predictable cacophony and intensity. It's not going to change, only my reaction to it can. I notice my shame and guilt for not wanting to help more. Each morning I stay longer and longer in the bedroom, to clean and make the bed, shower and dress, postpone going out into the kitchen.

Although B has his own large bedroom he occupies almost every other room as well. The electric train set fills the front room, the back living room couch becomes a massive pillow fort, the dining room table a place for learning how to read, the kitchen bar covered in maple syrup. He rarely plays alone, but when he does he sings and dialogues loudly, filling the entire house with his voice. On the rare occasions D takes a moment alone in the bathroom, B still barges in. I don't know if any of this is normal. I don't have children. I consciously decided not to because I was certain I'd be a terrible unpredictable mother.

And it seems to be playing out that way as the girlfriend aunt/sister/mom figure - I'm terrible and unpredictable. I'm not affectionate or funny. I'm cold and distant. I'm too individualistic and lack group skills. I always feel ashamed.

How will I find my way back to accepting myself and also discovering peace?

DAY 10

I have $45,000 less than I did 3 weeks ago. I finally peeked at my own personal numbers, having read the headlines for weeks, alerts in my inbox. Since I started working at age 16, bagging groceries at Safeway, I have been financially ultra-conservative, ridiculously frugal. For me, it's simply about spending less, not about stock portfolios and high-yield funds. I have squirreled away a healthy savings that way, with the addition of little certificates earning 3.5%.  I have never cared that I could earn so much more, I prefer my old-fashioned method that requires no risk, fear.

Until 8 months ago. When I finally hired a financial planning team to gently guide me into the 21st century. Once a month for 3 months I sat with them and talked, and talked, and talked. We created mind maps and venn diagrams and charts and spreadsheets, dreaming, dreaming, scheming, plotting retirement, life span. In January I finally closed those certificates, paid penalties, transferred them to a new brokerage account along with a sizable amount of cash. I gave the team permission to invest.

At this current rate of decline I will be nearing $0 in two months.

Once I shared with a certain Spanish 3 class that looking at my bank account made me feel secure, safe. That when my life felt chaotic and confused, teetering in darkness and failure, I could look at those numbers and know that I could take care of myself, I wouldn't be homeless, I'd have enough to eat. It's one of few life accomplishments I take pride in, it's a core value, an anchor.

Now I'm drifting.

DAY 9

It fascinates me what I am attracted to doing without coaxing or argument. It is always a physical pursuit - today running stairs in the soft drizzle, running up the hill, slowly and for the longest I have since dislocating my toe a year ago.

Why all these small triumphs now? These obscure and prosaic celebrations of strength, endurance?

T and I walked further and deeper around her neighborhood today, looping down into dead ends, concrete houses, elaborate gardens, elderly couples shuffling past, sharing the view. We discussed pine cone craft projects, my guilt, problem solving structure and ritual. I handed her my finished copy of "Educated." We gave each other pretend hugs.

Back at home D was ready to give me a massage, late afternoon sun and hummingbirds just outside, pink blossoms, manic squirrels. I closed my eyes beneath the blankets and let myself receive love, attention.

422, 915 infected; 18,915 dead; 108,573 recovered. I include this only for record keeping, I do not want to contemplate it today.

DAY 8

We were supposed to go to Ellensburg, cycle the Canyon Road. I woke up early, irritated, but early, inspired, energized, motivated to get something done. First laundry, then brown rice, then vegetable soup. While wearing a baby blue biketard and sipping matcha. Drowning out B's incessant loudness with headphones and my own insistent dicing. I was counting the minutes until there was silence, feeling guilty but also exhilarated.

Change happened quickly; after the food and clothes were packed, the bikes loaded. We stayed locally, drove to Mercer Island and cycled there. 20 years ago I lived in Mt. Baker and the Mercer Island loop was one of my favorite easy rides, all curves and smooth pavement. It was D's first time and I think he liked it; the sun even surprised us. I am so accustomed to biking alone, having him beside me felt unreal. After one loop he drove home and I biked, crossing the I-90 bridge, cruising through Leschi and the Arboretum, hopping back on the Burke-Gilman.

My beloved poop brown Surly, with her unadorned steel frame and basic components does not attract attention or envy. In fact, I almost replaced her last summer with a $2000 iridescent purple carbon-fiber Trek with disc brakes. I felt it was time to get a 'fast bike,' one that I 'deserved' for all the riding I do. But after two weeks of riding this new Trek I wasn't convinced I was happier, or faster. I took it back. I gave Surly a tune-up and apologized for nearly abandoning her.

That was a year ago. Now that I've been riding every day I notice the shifting is off, it clunks loudly, skips. The repairs are beyond my limited skill set - pumping up a tire, putting oil on the chain - so I impulsively stopped at CounterBalance Cycle shop near UVillage, right on the trail. The entrance sign stated only 2 people in the shop at a time; I peered in and saw no other customers. I took a deep breath and entered - I hate bike shops and the condescending men who work and shop in them.  I repeatedly have had frustrating interactions, the arrogance, the mansplaining, the impatience.

But employee Delaney broke the mold, he was kind and simply nice to me. He adjusted my gears but honestly told me I needed a new chain, cassette, rear cable. He offered me a $35 cassette or a $75 one. He even told me he could replace everything while I waited - while I ate my almond butter and orange marmalade sandwich wrapped tightly in a napkin. And I agreed.

It was overwhelming, this kindness, this spontaneity. I rode home, elated.

And then I stupidly opened my computer, started down the deep black hole of the virus and our collective fear and sadness.

DAY 6 and 7

I already missed a day. It reinforces the underachiever label I have given myself. So much potential, so little accomplished. Can't even write 50 words a day 6 days in a row. Haven't even checked out an online yoga class or set up my own Zoom account.  Yesterday my friend V asked about my projects - she is working on a script, a book of short stories, future art projects. I responded, "being in the present moment." That's really all I can commit to.

How many couples, living together, verge of breakup, anger and misunderstanding their norm, are now home alone, full-time? How many mothers and fathers are juggling home school, unemployment, virtual playdates, adolescent angst, their own anxiety, sleepless nights, dwindling bank accounts, credit card debt? How many of my students want to have a purpose, a reason to get up every morning now that sports, music, arts, grades are suspended?

My friend D who works for Amazon is quarantined on Maui, indefinitely he says. Until it's safe to come home. My Spanish friend O is now a refugee on a small island in rural Philippines. He says they will deport him back to Spain if they find him. If the virus had happened just a few weeks later I would be hiding out in Costa Rica.

My old instinct to run away is growing stronger each day. I want to get in my car and drive. And drive. Away from domesticity - cleaning gutters, pulling weeds, folding laundry. And my quarantine partners, the intimacy and distancing, the mood swings and fear. But I am a different woman now; I won't abandon them in exchange for further isolation, loneliness, perceived freedom.

335,997 infected; 14,641 dead; 98,333 recovered.

DAY 5

The light and long days, sunshine warming us collectively, has definitely helped during this first week of closures, social distancing. But I fear despair will move in soon, especially with rain ahead.

Bicycle riding has been my salvation and joy this week. My identity is deeply connected to feeling strong and healthy, moving my body, accelerating the beating of my heart. This week of long walks, riding, connecting, I am living in the most present moment --

DAY 4

Our local video store is closed.

It was just 5 days ago that D and I were picking up Game of Thrones and BookSmart (a high school comedy I highly recommend). I remember asking the young, bearded and bespectacled man at check out, "And how are you doing? Do you have 2 weeks worth of food?" (perhaps a personal question but I was feeling strangely social and talkative that afternoon). He replied, "I have a month worth of food. And I'm ready to help my elderly neighbors if they need me."

Today when I arrived to return the videos and pick up more Games of Thrones I saw two huge locks on the door, a closure explanation sign, a return slot open and overflowing. After I added my three to the pile I called the store and left a long winded message - please reopen, take orders by phone, your loyal customers will happily wait their turn outside.

Now I am subscriber to HBOgo.

244,421 infected; 10,027 dead; 86,025 recovered. The dead are skewed towards men, something in the range of 60-65% and over 70 with pre-existing conditions like diabetes. My father falls into all three categories.

But today really was a sweet day - a sunny warm Spring day. I walked with good friend T and her dog for over two hours, criss-crossing through a neighborhood with water and mountain views, houses under construction, some with perfect gardens, rooftop decks, shiny vintage cars. I biked south to the I-90 bridge, rested at the viewpoint in full sun, then discovered a new bike trail at Montlake and the Arboretum on the way home.

DAY 3

I opened my eyes and felt D kissing my cheek, say "Good Morning." I snuggled deeper into our bed and watched him walk into the bathroom. Minutes later I rose too, headed to the kitchen to put on the kettle for tea.

"Today is my last day at work, they are closing the clinic tomorrow." -- D said it plainly, calmly. We hugged, I felt his cheek against mine, the warmth of his skin. And then he quietly put on his shoes, grabbed his backpack and left for the day.

214,894 infected; 8,732 dead; 83,313 recovered.

Instead of a morning staring at charts, graphs and reading explicit articles I prepare for the 9am arrival of W and B. Thankfully, the day fills and expands, with sunshine, making butter, playing Jenga, walking, digging, cooking, buying vegetable seeds, eating, cleaning, washing hands again and again.

DAY 2

I opened my eyes at 8:30am this morning, having slept for a full 8 hours, a rare occurrence. My first thought was a positive one, acknowledging the deep benefits of sleep and how during this closure I will likely be getting enough. And I noticed my throat felt fine, as did my temperature. Of course, now every little tingle, twinge, itch, burn, or cough sends tiny alarm thoughts whirling - is today the day I get sick? Is today the day when I won't leave my house for two weeks?

Feeling good, D (the man I live with and love deeply) and I got dressed and ran up and down our neighborhood set of 258 stairs for a solid 30 minutes. I don't normally exercise so early in the morning, accompanied by birdsong, stillness. A delightful change. Afterwards, we ate buckwheat waffles, drank matcha tea, discussed our upcoming day. Like everything was normal. Except it was Tuesday and I wasn't at school.

I picked up some board games from a neighborhood friend, in preparation for the imminent arrival of D's children (7 and 13, boy and girl) for 5 days, and also started to create a daily schedule for them (and me) that will include silent reading, bike rides, trying new recipes. I'm more than slightly nervous about keeping us stimulated, creative.

Next, more World Map reading (196,640 total cases by 3pm with 7,893 deaths), state updates, national updates, and the alarming discovery that my 80 year old father was still seeing tax clients, personally meeting with them in his office. I have a history of staying calm with my parents and respecting their decisions but this particular case upended that - I was furious. My father, however, is stubborn and clearly in denial. He simply believes he will "just finish out the tax year and be done on April 15."

Is it shocking and distasteful that I asked him where his will is located???

After saying goodbye I noticed my energy level was very high -- so I got dressed, completely decimated a raised bed of weeds with a shovel and lots of digging, scrubbed the grime off the never been cleaned BBQ, then hopped on my road bike and rode north to Kenmore, down to Kirkland, across the 520 bridge and back home to Lake City.  Two hours later, drenched in sunshine and water views, fast descents and strong, slow ascents I felt better.

DAY 1

Today is the first official day of our six week school closure. Initially, we teachers were scheduled to spend a full 7 hours at the school, preparing enrichment for parent pick-up, but last night the directive was changed to optional. Instead of arriving at 7:30am I came to school around 9am, dressed in a new skirt and boots, even wearing a bit of make-up, having decided to continue being professional during this uncertain time.

Fortunately, several of my colleagues were there too - Ms. Miller, the AP English teacher, Ms. Serka, another Spanish teacher and Ms. Landin, Yearbook and French teacher. We discussed how to approach the vague directions for enrichment material, swapped stories about our weekend and shared our thoughts about the future. I was on the verge of tears several times but kept it hidden, preferring instead to be overtly optimistic, brainstorming ways this extended time could be an opportunity for growth.

I left my office soon thereafter and headed to Trader Joe's. I noticed I felt anxious as I parked the car, dreading seeing the empty shelves that have been the new normal. This time, however, the shelves were still full and the lines were short. I picked up more chicken broth, pasta, rice and 5 pounds of ground beef - each time I go to the grocery store now I buy a few extra things to put in the closet, for emergencies. I have never shopped this way before. How long will my 'emergency' food last, I wonder?

Back at home I open my laptop to the John's Hopkins Live Feed World Map of Coronavirus cases - new cases, deaths, recovered. I note that the number of total cases has increased to 174, 884 from 167,446 the day before but deaths have only risen by 265, from 6,440 to 6,705. I open the Seattle Times and read updates, then updates on the New York Times. Nothing is positive.

I text a few friends who I haven't been in touch with in months -- asking how they are, waiting for a response. So far, everyone is still healthy.

It's a beautiful Spring day in Seattle. My backyard is full of delicate pink blossoms, growing grass, fallen pine cones. I need to change the sugar water in the hummingbird feeder, and I make a mental note to do that tomorrow. Time now to change clothes, pull out my road bike and go for a ride. Time to pause the pandemic thoughts and be in the present moment, surrounded by beauty, feeling healthy and strong and grateful.