Day 87 in 2020 (isolation day 12)

Spring rain, spring peepers, spring flowers...these are a few of our favorite things these days.

We won't know for a few weeks if, or how well, this isolation has worked to flatten the curve and save lives, but we are keeping our hopes up, and our bodies at home. Our minds and hearts, however, are all over the place. Calvin spent over four hours on a video chat with homeschooling friends this afternoon. Gimli and I did venture out, but only to a nearby metro park with ten foot wide paved trails where social distancing was easily achieved. That's where we found our spring peepers, and Gimli found lots of squirrels. And we enjoyed our weekly Friday beer date with family through computers. 

Day 86 in 2020 (isolation day 11)

We are still here, truckin' along. I was so happy to go out running today without cold gear. Running these days is a totally different experience. I've run several times a week for years and most of those runs I'll pass only one or two people, but these days people are everywhere all the time. Most people remain friendly even while maintaining appropriate physical distancing, but there are some who have started to eye the world with suspicion, and other who haven't gotten the six feet memo. And today, running through the cemetery because there are no sidewalks along its busy street corner, I passed a woman sitting in an idling car, crying on the phone. Then I noticed her nurse's ID. I struggled with that image the rest of the way home.

We are keeping routine and continuing with school, which has been good for us, I think. This week we are studying the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression, and sometimes I mistake the information in our history resources for current news (running out of masks, lung ailments, containment measures, stock market crashing). I didn't plan this overlap; I do all my school planning for the current year over the previous summer, so the study plan and resources for this week were set last August, but I couldn't have planned it better if I had tried. The similarity to our current situation lends a measure of empathy and realism to the history lesson, while the history brings a measure of hope today. (The resource we enjoyed most particularly was The Dust Bowl, a documentary by Ken Burns, which is available through Amazon Prime).

The flowers are just starting to come up in my garden. I don't have any of the early crocus, but my daffodils are making their way into the spring world and they promise to bring a burst of sun with them. I am deeply concerned about the changes in our climate, but early warmth and sun would be most welcome this year.

Day 85 in 2020 (isolation day 10)

Every day has it's ups and down. Dark spots today? We got the email from Calvin's dance studio effectively canceling the competition season—Calvin's first competition season, that he was so excited about—and offering a tuition adjustment, but, in the same sentence, subtly suggesting that maybe if we could afford it and we didn't ask for that adjustment, it might help the studio survive. Survive. Ouch. Also, Jon struggled throughout the morning to make a webinar happen even though internet everywhere is struggling under the load it suddenly must carry, but that was a bright spot, too, because...

Bright spots today? Jon played the hero today by, in spite of a multitude of hurdles, pulling off a successful webinar. Not a simple task, either. The webinar speaker was at his own house while Jon was on the floor of our storage room doing everything he could to keep the thing flowing smoothly with only a questionable internet connection. Also, the continuation of our daily online art class, and a very enjoyable Wednesday wine night online with family members. 

What's that you say, sign? There's going to be a major curve in the road ahead? Well, with help and hope we can handle this.

Day 84 in 2020 (isolation blog day 9)

I got a text this morning from our backyard neighbor, "Seeing your light on makes me smile. Just knowing you're there even though it is a yard away."

Our days have not actually changed all that much. We get up, Jon walks the dog while I make coffee and put away yesterday's dishes and Calvin gets started on school. That's when the light over our dining table goes on—the one that the neighbors can easily see from their own dining area, a cookie cutter version of ours—and the light usually stays on for the rest of the morning, at least until I used to take Calvin to school after lunch. And these days have been no different, except that the light often stays on longer as we spend the afternoon continuing with projects.

But that simple text was a touching reminder that life is not normal, and we are all in this together. When I go running outside now people cross the street as I come near, but they also wave and smile, and sometimes even call out a hello. I have had more social connections (remote social connections) with friends in the past week than I have in the last three months. And my neighbor, not usually home during a week day, reaches out just to say hello.

Who knew isolation could bring us so close?

When I left the house at lunchtime today to make a pharmacy run (likely the last time I'll go out for a long time), I left the light on in our dining room. 

Day 83 in 2020 (isolation blog)

The order to just plain stay home has finally been issued by our governor. Though I expected it last night, it didn't come until early today. The duration, for now, is three weeks, which is a week past when kids in our district were supposed to return to school, but I've been saying for a while now that I didn't expect them to reopen the schools again this school year. The rules seem to be changing daily, we're just trying to keep up.

Today's bright spots were a supportive, loving email from Calvin's band teacher, a message from his bassoon teacher with a creative work-around for getting reeds and music from him, and an hour-long online choir rehearsal, which Calvin tuned into from our bedroom while Jon taught an online piano lesson downstairs. I am deeply touched by the extensive effort by so many educators to connect with and help the kids usually under their care or tutelage.

Gimli likes to nap on our bed in the late afternoons, so choir rehearsal may have had an extra.