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.
Tuesday, March 31, 2020
Monday, March 30, 2020
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.
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.
Sunday, March 29, 2020
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!"
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.
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.
Friday, March 27, 2020
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.
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.
Thursday, March 26, 2020
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?
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?
Wednesday, March 25, 2020
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
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.
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.
Monday, March 23, 2020
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.
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.
Sunday, March 22, 2020
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.
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.
Friday, March 20, 2020
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 --
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 --
Thursday, March 19, 2020
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 18, 2020
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.
"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.
Tuesday, March 17, 2020
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.
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.
Monday, March 16, 2020
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.
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.
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