I am sure you have guessed that Ed and I are 100% behind the right to not infect others and to ourselves be not infected. We are masked bandits! Whenever a person appears to be coming within spittin distance of where we walk or ski, we make sure our masks are on tight. Were we to go inside again (say for a second shot at the pharmacy), we'd probably up the ante and wear either several masks or a really good mask, like one of the Korean ones you can still get on the internet (saving American made for health care workers) with at least some assurance that it isn't a porous nothing.
Right now, our masks are mostly the home-sewn type. Oh, we have two or three superbly made ones, but mostly, the stack dates back to the days when I could only find cloth masks on Etsy. So they vary in just about everything but especially in design and materials used. Ed has taken to wearing one that has pictures of sushi all over it. I think it's not an especially good one, but it is wide and honestly, this is just for outdoor distanced passing so I let it go. For now.
Careful as we are for ourselves and protective as we feel toward the community, we do think that mask wearing should not be extended to animals.
Try telling Dance that.
Maybe it's the sushi pictures, maybe it's that she likes my laundry detergent (I wash these guys daily), but this cat just loves Ed's mask. Considers it now hers.
Dance is spending quite a bit of time indoors with us, though she is and will remain an outdoor cat. No litter box, no overnighting here. Just visits. It is a happy for me compromise. Dance's personality is such that she demands just a little affection. Not a lot, not on your lap, not with claws. Just spread out on the couch next to me, smiling broadly if I give her a gentle cheek rub. Nothing more. (Well, except when I get up to fix something for myself in the kitchen. She always follows. No dummy, she has long figured out that this is from where all good smells originate.)
The day is cold and we don't have the sunshine to throw us some toasty brilliance and so much of the day is spent indoors.
I am exceptionally anxious to hear about Snowdrop's first day in school (which starts today). Her week will have only two full days of inclass instruction, but when you've had none of it for ten months, two days with other kids feels mighty fine. I hope, of course, that they all stay safe. The class list seems awfully big to me and social distancing wont be easy. Twelve boys, six girls. I wish I had a camera into the room!
I'm told Sparrow sobbed the whole car ride to her school and back. At home, he curled up on the floor and muttered "I miss Snowdrop" for the better part of the day. I'm sure he remembers nothing of his own school. He is two and a half. Give a few more months and you can say that he will have spent half his life in isolation. The crucial half. Because the opening of school has been such an iffy proposition (and remains iffy going forward), the sitter is still in place and so sending the little guy to preschool makes no sense unless you're the type who enjoys throwing money at every source that appears before you.
In the afternoon, Ed and I go skiing. The snow cover is significant by now and I read that this weekend it's going to get even more significant. We love it all. White stuff, piled high -- fantastic!
Out on the lake again...
Back on land...
I get an update from my daughter about Snowdrop's first day back in school. Teacher was serious (was it the mask?), kids were all well behaved, you're not allowed to talk when masks are off for lunch and the playground is awesome! Best part? Recess!
Spoken like a normal child. Phew! She survived the lockdown. And Sparrow? Overjoyed tonight at having his sister back home again.
