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.