Today was the day I was to land in Warsaw. I'd looked at the weather charts with lots of enthusiasm. For once, March was proving to be a winner there!
Of course, instead, I'm staying home.
For kids and parents with kids, a day when you're stuck at home may seem long. You make a list of exciting things to do with them -- maybe build a whole city with blocks and learn two languages while you're at it -- and at the end of the day, you collapse and think: one day down and... what, 45 more to go?
But older people look at time differently: it seems to always pass quickly. You think you have a whole day before you and suddenly, you look up, glance at the clock and recoil. It's evening? When did that happen?
Looking back now...
MORNING
After breakfast, alone again (Ed needed to rest)...
... I attack the problem of adding some requested foods to my mom's pantry. She gets three meals a day at her retirement home, but she's mostly on her own with snacks. Yes, I would have done it sooner, but I just got her list and it seemed easy enough to simply order a home delivery. Peanut butter, nuts, ice cream, some cheese and crackers -- that kind of stuff.
Well now! I knew there would be a spike in online shopping, but of course, it's worse than a spike. All systems are crashing and besides, most of the items she wants are no longer available. Ed and I try four different sources and fail each time.
Of course, it isn't a major problem. Eventually, shopping may become less chaotic and, too, we can think of other clever ways of getting snacks to her, but still, it took us the whole morning to figure out that this just can't happen today.
What next? Well, since it's a rather cold day, Ed thought it would be fun to fill out our census form. There is nothing funnier than listening to him agonize over what to call our relationship (that's one of the questions). I know very well how to be provocative: say "husband and wife" and watch him turn pale!
NOON
Now comes the afternoon. Still cold and so we stay indoors. I start thinking about dinner. This is normally a two minute process. In simpler times, I have the week pretty much sketched out in my head. Today, I'm stumped. A frittata again? Will that deplete fresh veggies? Are we at that point so soon? Two days into the month's stock up and I'm already worried about depleting the veggies?
So maybe start in on the frozen ones?
I know, I know -- we should all have such lightweight problems! But thinking about which combo of protein and veggie to cook up for dinner is far less stressful than reading yet another report on what's going on in the rest of the world.
AFTERNOON
Email exchanges and texts with family and friends have increased somewhat. Not because any of us have more time (ask working parents how leisurely their days are feelin' right now!). I think it's because we crave that community that is suddenly threatened. And I want to know how things are for my beloveds. (I have to admit -- I need to restrain myself from sending them endless advice articles -- like, did you read the one posted by Consumer Reports on how to shop for groceries at the time of the pandemic? I mean, I'm sure they know to wash their hands, but I thought it essential to let the young families read about how they should be using their own pens to sign credit card pads. Because, you know, all that university education was not good enough for them to have figured this out on their own.)
And now the afternoon is long gone. I check my email one more time. I see messages from Delta and KLM asking me how I enjoyed my flights. The ones that I wasn't on.
EVENING
Chicken brats and broccoli. From the stack of fresh veggies. Broccoli bunches take up room in the fridge (we eat copious amounts of veggies each evening), so it's good to cook it up today. Next week, it's onto the frozen stuff.
We live in an unreal world, don't you think? Still, we're all trying to figure it out and I like to believe that collectively, we're forging ahead in the best way we can, with our brains working overtime to be sure, but too, finding space for a quick laugh (did you hear the one about Milan's painting of The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci? No one's at the table. Couldn't come, because of, you now, the virus). Hey, if the Italians (who are suffering terribly right now) can laugh and sing, so can I.
Didn't hear their voices? Try this. It's worth it.
Stay well, stay happy!
Of course, instead, I'm staying home.
For kids and parents with kids, a day when you're stuck at home may seem long. You make a list of exciting things to do with them -- maybe build a whole city with blocks and learn two languages while you're at it -- and at the end of the day, you collapse and think: one day down and... what, 45 more to go?
But older people look at time differently: it seems to always pass quickly. You think you have a whole day before you and suddenly, you look up, glance at the clock and recoil. It's evening? When did that happen?
Looking back now...
MORNING
After breakfast, alone again (Ed needed to rest)...
... I attack the problem of adding some requested foods to my mom's pantry. She gets three meals a day at her retirement home, but she's mostly on her own with snacks. Yes, I would have done it sooner, but I just got her list and it seemed easy enough to simply order a home delivery. Peanut butter, nuts, ice cream, some cheese and crackers -- that kind of stuff.
Well now! I knew there would be a spike in online shopping, but of course, it's worse than a spike. All systems are crashing and besides, most of the items she wants are no longer available. Ed and I try four different sources and fail each time.
Of course, it isn't a major problem. Eventually, shopping may become less chaotic and, too, we can think of other clever ways of getting snacks to her, but still, it took us the whole morning to figure out that this just can't happen today.
What next? Well, since it's a rather cold day, Ed thought it would be fun to fill out our census form. There is nothing funnier than listening to him agonize over what to call our relationship (that's one of the questions). I know very well how to be provocative: say "husband and wife" and watch him turn pale!
NOON
Now comes the afternoon. Still cold and so we stay indoors. I start thinking about dinner. This is normally a two minute process. In simpler times, I have the week pretty much sketched out in my head. Today, I'm stumped. A frittata again? Will that deplete fresh veggies? Are we at that point so soon? Two days into the month's stock up and I'm already worried about depleting the veggies?
So maybe start in on the frozen ones?
I know, I know -- we should all have such lightweight problems! But thinking about which combo of protein and veggie to cook up for dinner is far less stressful than reading yet another report on what's going on in the rest of the world.
AFTERNOON
Email exchanges and texts with family and friends have increased somewhat. Not because any of us have more time (ask working parents how leisurely their days are feelin' right now!). I think it's because we crave that community that is suddenly threatened. And I want to know how things are for my beloveds. (I have to admit -- I need to restrain myself from sending them endless advice articles -- like, did you read the one posted by Consumer Reports on how to shop for groceries at the time of the pandemic? I mean, I'm sure they know to wash their hands, but I thought it essential to let the young families read about how they should be using their own pens to sign credit card pads. Because, you know, all that university education was not good enough for them to have figured this out on their own.)
And now the afternoon is long gone. I check my email one more time. I see messages from Delta and KLM asking me how I enjoyed my flights. The ones that I wasn't on.
EVENING
Chicken brats and broccoli. From the stack of fresh veggies. Broccoli bunches take up room in the fridge (we eat copious amounts of veggies each evening), so it's good to cook it up today. Next week, it's onto the frozen stuff.
We live in an unreal world, don't you think? Still, we're all trying to figure it out and I like to believe that collectively, we're forging ahead in the best way we can, with our brains working overtime to be sure, but too, finding space for a quick laugh (did you hear the one about Milan's painting of The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci? No one's at the table. Couldn't come, because of, you now, the virus). Hey, if the Italians (who are suffering terribly right now) can laugh and sing, so can I.
Didn't hear their voices? Try this. It's worth it.
Stay well, stay happy!
