today

I haven't left my apartment since last Monday, except to pick up mail and throw away garbage. Yet despite my physical isolation I really haven't felt lonely. 

I speak to friends much more often than I ever did.

One friend, who has never been a phone-talker, insists on FaceTime (which I hate).

I now speak to my mom several times a day; she's doing great — even without the PT person coming.

I receive more genuinely funny videos and informative articles than I ever have before. — anything to make one smile or dispel myths is always welcome.

Life continues as near normal as one can make it. 

And despite now having many more phone conversations, there has been a definite shift in the kinds of questions people ask.

Here are just a few.

No longer asked:

• What are you doing today/tonight?

• What did you do this weekend?

• What will you do tomorrow?

• Did you know that Bergdorf's (Saks, Bloomingdales ...) is having a huge sale?

• Did you get tickets for (pick any play, concert, event, sports game ...)?

• Let's set a time to get together. What does your schedule look like? (And how ironic that so many of us are now always free).

• How's your job search going? (I left Saks in November, long story for another time).

Consistently asked:

• What are you cooking for dinner?

• Have you read anything really good lately? (The Tenant, and now Saint X).

• Are you having a problem getting a slot from Fresh Direct? (the next 7 days are totally booked).

• Is there anything you've seen on Netflix that you've loved?

• Did you watch Cuomo today? 

• And related: Can you let me know when Cuomo is on today?

• I have a sore throat (headache, stomach ache ... ); do you think that means anything?

• What day is it (as if the answer matters)?

• How many days have you self-quarantined? (I'm on day 7).

And then there are the things I'm so grateful for. Again, here are just a few.

• Healthcare workers and first responders
• Doorman and building support
• Delivery people
• Food stores and pharmacies
• Creative people who make those hilarious videos
• Dr. Fauci
• Governor Cuomo
• The internet
• Kindle
• My TV and all its content
• Zoom
• My incredible friends
• Family
• Being part of NYC, even now.

the art of grocery shopping

I am trying to stay out of grocery stores as much as possible.

Monday I was in Butterfields, and have been home, inside, since. But I need to replenish.

My first stop is Fresh Direct. Everyone used to be able to get one-day delivery. Now one is lucky to find an open delivery slot within a week. But that's okay, I am grateful we still have so many delivery options here. My order, placed on Tuesday, will arrive Sunday. In the meantime, I keep adding to it.

Today I order — for the first time —  from Butterfields. When my bags arrive, I leave them outside my door and unpack from there.

I'm now good for three more days.

The last time I did anything even remotely social was on March 11. I attended a BAFTA Board Meeting. On that day, there were 53 positive cases of Covid-19 reported in NYC. As of today, there are 23,112, and 365 deaths. To put this in perspective, in 2019, there were 315 homicides in NYC.

Everything I've heard says that  staying in is the safest place to be. 

I haven't left my house since Monday. Some people I know who have, remove their clothes as soon as they return home, throw them in the washer, and take a shower.  If I had a dog (and/or a washer and dryer), I'd be doing that too. 

It all still feels so unbelievable. Literally.

I find myself on the phone more.  And though everyone is tired of talking about anything related to the coronavirus, the conversation inevitably circles back to it. There's really little else to talk about these days. 

the upside of shelter in place

I have a friend who always says, "To be happy, I think you need something to look forward to." 

I agree. 

So I'm looking forward to time passing. I am hopeful that in four weeks, give or take, the worst of this pandemic will be over.

Going out is risky, and too much trouble. I saw this recently and it really made me laugh.

So for now, I am pretty much staying inside. And there are some benefits.

• I spend no time getting ready, since I am wearing zero makeup and yesterday's clothes.

• Whomever I call is always home. But now there is no good excuse for wanting to hang up.  It used to be that you could say things like, "Well, I better get going." But now if you say that someone can legitimately ask, "Why? Where are you going?" And then what do you say? Lame excuses like, I was just about to shower when you called? Or, Cuomo is on TV and I want to watch him? 

• I am saving $44/month since I canceled the NY Times today, as my building  no longer allows deliveries to apartment doors.

• Anything I have in the freezer (I typically don't keep much) will likely be eaten. Prior to now, I'd freeze something and then 8 months later toss it.

• I can now see if I'll have that gorgeous white-grey hair that some older woman have, or will I instead have the wiry, ugly kind that looks dreadful (it's looking like the latter).

• I am only spending money on food and the occasional medical/cleaning/household supply.  The other day I buy a thermometer as the one I purchased when Alexander was born no longer works. That was 27 years ago. 

• I finally get around to organizing, and sending out to print, my 2019 photo book, which took 3 full days to complete; it's a laborious process if you use Mimeo (via Apple) and don't autofill.

• But my 2019 Blog Book takes less than 30-minutes to complete. It's now out to be printed.

Today I  blow dry my hair even though I'm staying in and seeing no one.  
I'm just sick of looking at myself looking so bad. 
I even put on some lipstick, but no other 
makeup. That'd be going too far.

. 

selling on Craig's list in the age of covid-19

Almost two years ago I bought a new sofa. 

And for that same amount of time, I've been living with a coffee table I no longer like; it's too big for the sofa, and doesn't work aesthetically. 

But it's a piece of furniture that I once loved. I bought it at Bloomingdales. It was not inexpensive. And it still looks great. Just not in front of my sofa.

So a few weeks ago I decide to sell my coffee table on Craig's List. At first, I get the usual respondents: people who have a long, involved story about how they are willing to pay more but can't come in person but will send me a check. These people I ignore. But last night I get a simple email:

Hi is your coffee table on Craigslist still available for purchase?

Thanks,

Daniel

I answer yes. Daniel offers to buy it for less than I'm asking. I counteroffer. He accepts. Done. 

But the skeptic in me wonders if this is a legit offer. I ask Daniel if I can call him and he says yes.

I take that as a good sign.

We speak and he sounds totally normal and nice. He suggests coming over today. Before saying yes I ask a stupid question. "You're not sick are you?" 

Daniel and a friend stop by this afternoon. We don't shake hands. He both removes his shoes and keeps a safe distance from me — neither of which I request. This alone is reason to trust him.

He looks at the table. Likes it. Then takes out his phone and Venmos me the $365 we've agreed on.  

I ask him what kind of work he does. If my son were reading this blog (which he never does) he'd be rolling his eyes at my superfluous question.  Daniel smiles and looks almost embarrassed. "We're residents in anesthesiology." OMG, they're both doctors.

Before I say anything, Daniel adds, "But we haven't been around any coronavirus cases."

Daniel asks if I have a Clorox Wipe, which of course I do — like everyone else these days. 

He wipes down his new coffee table, says good-bye, and leaves. 

Seller and buyer are both happy.

the issue of food

It's a lot like Christmas morning but without the joy.

Streets are deserted.

Everything is closed.

Traffic is down.

Busses are empty.

But I need food.

I suit up before leaving. 

Who would have ever thought that this kind of fashion statement wouldn't get stares?

On the street about half the people out are wearing masks of some kind. In the past, I would have thought they looked ridiculous. Now I think, I wonder where they all got them?

I walk toward a woman coming from the opposite direction. As we pass each other, we both move a little bit further away. Then we smile with acknowledgement — a knowing smile that seems to say, crazy, isn't it?

I go to Butterfields, my favorite small gourmet grocer. I buy three days worth of food.

On the way home, my face itches and I scratch it. Oh no, I think. I can't believe I touched my face. I hope the rain will wash off any germs until I get home and then I'll wash my face with soap, something I never do.

The guy walking more than six feet in front of me sneezes into a tissue. I cross to the other side of the street.

I get home, and immediately wash my hands and face.

I recently read that spandex-like materials may retain germs longer than breathable cotton-based fabrics. So I take off my Lululemon leggings and change into something else.

I unpack my groceries and then wash my hands again. They have never been so clean.

But I am home. The place where I feel safest.

virtual canasta

Two years ago a small group of us decide to learn Canasta.

Zelia, who is from Brazil, already knows the game and thinks it will be fun if others of us learn it. So we decide to take lessons. We all use a woman named Sharon, who is an excellent teacher.

By the fall of 2018, we have settled on a Monday night game at 7:15. And we've missed very few games since. There are 8 of us. Our one connection is that at some point, we've all had kids at Horace Mann. It's certainly not a requirement of the group; it's just turned out that way.

Our group has grown to 10 woman. We've added two more Shari's on top of the Shari we already have. Janice or Ellen used to be our weekly host.  Now it's typically Ronda or Shari C, both of whom live near me. In fact, since starting our group, Ronda has moved into my building and lives only four floors above.

But now our weekly games have been disrupted.

A couple of weeks ago Shari C had a cold (nothing more), but to be cautious, we cancelled the game. Now of course we can't get together, even though we are all (fortunately) healthy.

So Shari T comes up with a. brilliant idea. We can get together virtually. And now, even Janice (who has since moved to Colorado) and Joan (who spends the winters in Florida) can join us. This week we've played a few games, and today we schedule two: four people at 2pm, and another four people at 4pm. 

We use an app called Canasta Junction. Today, uncharacteristically, it takes almost as long to set up the game as it does to play it.

Getting a good internet connection proves difficult for one of the players today. But we are a resilient, patient group (after all, why not be patient over a game of cards?), and a half hour or so later, we begin playing.

Zelia starts out as a skeptic but by the end of the second game, she admits that it's a lot of fun.

It may not be as good as being together, but at least we are eating less since the hosting aspect has disappeared.

Tomorrow we plan to play again.

the city that never sleeps is taking a nap

I look at my calendar for the next couple of weeks. Nothing.

Everything I had planned is all crossed out. Movies. Theater. Dinners. Hair appointments. Dentist visits. BAFTA events. Meetings. Even small get-togethers with friends.

So this is what I've been doing:

• Reading a lot. Just finished and loved The Tenant by Katrine Engberg.
• Cleaning.
• Catching up on TV. Am totally enjoying The Morning Show.
• Spending a lot more time on the phone. No one is going anywhere so everyone is available to just sit and talk.
• Discovering Zoom.
• Hanging with Alexa; she's tested negative.
• Going through my closets and deciding what to sell on Poshmark. But really, who would be buying someone else's clothes right now?!

This morning I go for a walk and see signs everywhere underscoring our new reality.

Restaurants open only for take-out and delivery.



And others totally shuttered.



I keep my nails short so I'm not too affected by my local nail place closing, but I feel bad for all the workers.



I'm not sure I understand this sign at my local florist since 1) I think these are their normal hours, and 2) the store is closed when I take this photo around 11.



And then there's the local bagel shop sign. I'm not sure what it means exactly since I take this photo on a Wednesday and they are open.



Yup. The greatest city in the world is pretty much shut down.

laundry dilemna

My apartment is old and doesn't have a washer and dryer. That, along with a private driver, would complete me.

Because my building charges a ton for use of its basement washers and dryers, I usually send my laundry out. 

But now what do I do? 
Is it safe to send out? 
Is it safe to use the ones in my basement? 

I can get by if I do my laundry every three weeks. It's now been three weeks. 

My neighbor, whose apartment was renovated, has a washer and dryer that he says I can use. Peter is the best neighbor, but still, I feel funny traipsing in and out with my dirty clothes.

After much deliberation, I bring my stuff over to the Chinese cleaners next door. I try to ask what special precautions they are taking. The guy behind the desk barely speaks English. But he does understand "coronavirus." He smiles and says two things, "Masks and gloves." Fine, I think.  And when I get my laundry back, I'll wait a couple of days before opening. 

There have been conflicting reports on how long the virus lives on clothes, but I'm assuming Harvard Health is correct, and "the virus is more likely to survive on hard surfaces than softer ones like clothing fabric."

Still, my laundry has been sitting untouched on my floor for two days now. I think I'll wait another two, and by then it should be safe to unpack and put away.  

So so crazy.

my mom, her cat, and wild harbor

A few weeks ago, my mom fell and broke a bone in her pelvis.  She was hospitalized for a week and then in rehab for a few weeks after that. Her positive spirit and regular exercise routine lead to a faster-than-expected recovery.

While in rehab, my mom maintained her socially active life. Friends and cards poured in. And by the time she left, hey mom's regular bridge and canasta games were being held at the Royal Megansett Nursing Home.

Ellie, my mom's cat-dog, wouldn't leave her side once she returned home.  Ellie, though a cat, behaves like a dog. She waits for my mom at the door. She follows her everywhere. And she cries from sheer joy just seeing my mother. On my mom's first day home, Ellie wouldn't leave her side. And though she usually sleeps at the foot of my mom's bed, she's not taking any chances now that my mom is finally home.

My mom always talks about her incredible circle of friends, and she has many. She lives in a great area of the Cape called Wild Harbor in North Falmouth. They even have a private website. This post today characterizes how thoughtful my mom's neighbors truly are: 

it's the little things

Mike, from Frank's Window Cleaning, comes over to wash my windows. It's been two years; I can barely see out of them.

But before he comes, I ask M, "What if he wants to use my bathroom? Should I let him?" We decide no, but fortunately he doesn't ask.

I go the bank to get money so I can pay Mike in cash. It's a beautiful, sunny day. I run out without a coat. But I do remember to wear gloves. Winter cashmere gloves.

The bank clerk laughs and suggests maybe I should get clear gloves. I'm the only one, by the way, wearing them.

While I'm at the bank, a friend texts me a picture at Costco. This is the line waiting to get in. I guess people want to be prepared with enough goods to last — not two weeks as recommended — but a lifetime.

By 10:15, Mike is done.  He's done an amazing job. I can finally see clearly our new strange world.

It looks the same... but we all know it isn't.

a deserved friday the 13th

The coronavirus (or more specifically, COVID-19) is a world pandemic. 

I've decided to write, lest I forget the world today.

Yesterday, Mayor DeBlasio declared a state of emergency in NYC.

To name just a few of the closings:

• All of Broadway — just as M, V and I are trying to re-schedule our tickets for Diana, The Musical, which we were supposed to see next week. Looks like I'll now most likely be spending my birthday alone.

• All national sports events, including the NCAA Final Four.

• St. Patrick's Day Parades.

• The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

• CBS Upfronts (with other networks to follow, no doubt).

• All venues in NYC that house more than 500 people.

• All NYC public libraries.

• All BAFTA screenings.

The coronavirus has introduced a new phrase into the vernacular: social distancing. We are now all trying to stay at least 6-feet from the next person. Obviously that presents major challenges on the subways and busses.

There has been a run on necessities. On Tuesday (March 10) I went to Costco and bought toilet paper. Big decision there. No regular Charmin, only the ultras. I stood in front of the TP section for far too long, deciding between Ultra Strong or Ultra Soft. I eventually decided to err on the side of strong. When M went a few days later in Boston there was no decision to be made. The TP shelves were empty.

.

We are all second-guessing everything:

• Should we get together and play our Monday night game of Canasta? Still undecided.
• Should I keep a non-essential doctor's appointment at my podiatrist? I cancelled.
• Is my newspaper, delivered each morning, safe to touch? Not sure, but I did.
• Should I cancel my hair-coloring appointment on Sunday? No way.
• What about the book I've been reading from my library? Can't worry about that.
• Is it okay for the window cleaners to come tomorrow? I hope so.
• Should I send my laundry out? I probably will, but then won't touch it for a few days once it comes back.
• And that sneeze I have? Is that indicative of something more serious? I doubt it.

The economy is crashing.

And our President is, well, the same person he was before. Disbursing wrong information and blaming everyone but himself for the virus' spread and lack of sufficient testing kits.

Maybe —hopefully — Trump's mismanagement of the coronavirus will finally cause his downfall. 

Now that would be a good thing.