...the days of swine and roses... the days of wine and COVID...

 

I believe today is my 61^st day sheltering in place/ not leaving home except for a few short socially-distanced trips. 

While I’m anxious about everyone’s health and safety, I am not going crazy. I adore my fella more than ever and we haven’t fought. I still like being at home, especially in this home with this amazing yard. I do not miss going out. I cannot imagine every going into a grocery store again. 

My husband and I have watched now three groups of baby birds. I walk in great stretches of 4-5 miles without seeing anyone. The garden is better than ever. 

This year, I’m growing vegetables.

We know that we are fortunate. We have our jobs and my fella already worked from home. We have access to grocery delivery. My brother, who works in the hospitality and sporting industry, has been out of work since September. He had one decent prospect right before COVID 19 closed everything down in Miami. It’s been hard for him to access food, safe outdoor areas, especially after the public parks closed. 

We have remained home because we’re rule followers, self-diagnosed germaphobes (or at least I am), super cautious individuals. My neighbors had 30 kids over for “a coronavirus party” my fella heard them say. My mother was finally so bored that she went to Walmart and had a heart attack… literally. We had discussed this. If anything happens, they won’t let us in the hospitals. Information and access will be limited. It was. My dad waited outside of the hospital hoping he would learn something until some nurses recognized that he had some seriously low blood sugar. He’s diabetic. This didn’t go well. He refused to call me because I would have told him to go home. They just don’t want to remain at home.

We’re not bored. In fact, I’m busier than ever with work, two summer courses that begin next week that I should be focusing on right now. I have a book chapter coming out next week. I had an article accepted for publication last week… or was it the week before. Time does have a way of blurring. I’m attending virtual conferences and meetings about cemeteries and adolescent literature. I’m participating in The Rosenbach’s Sundays with Dracula. World Dracula Day is in just a few weeks. I cook creative meals. I sit with my husband and talk. We laugh and smile. I remain anxious about everyone’s health and safety. I’m an anxious person. That’s who I am.

I miss walking in the cemeteries but fear that I’ll have to use a restroom, which are currently closed. Plus, I try to keep the city cemeteries for those in the city who don’t have the space to roam.

I hope my university doesn’t reopen to face-to-face courses in the fall. I’m certified to teach online and I have enjoyed the creativity of developing my summer course on Dark Tourism as an online one. I cannot imagine having to return to public transportation. I carried Clorox wipes before any of this. But I don’t need Clorox wipes in the garden.

The garden grows and hugs us in for summer. I move bulbs around. I order plants online from small greeneries. I focus more on nature than on media. I channel the words of my therapist. I light Halloween candles to soak in fall scents. I sip tea. 

There is so much wintering in this spring.