It is May the 4. We are still in lockdown, so to speak. Andy has been out three times since the middle of February. Once to the podiatrist and twice with me to Fred Meyers. What excitement. Yawn.

I could write about current events. People are getting restless. The right wingers, the libertarians, the rednecks are complaining that their civil rights are being trampled. If they want to mingle in public they should be able to do so. This is what they are screaming about. And they have at state capitols and various places. When they get the virus I wonder if they will change their minds. In the meantime they shout out vulgar words, wave swastikas, argue for states rights when it is their state that is enforcing social distancing and business closures. They carry guns. They are very, very scary people.

Meanwhile, in a fit of desperation I signed up for a virtual 10K. The Devil Mountain Run. I had never done it while living in the Bay Area because I was always in training for a marathon. Now was my chance. It was fun doing the training. Not nearly as rigorous as training for a marathon but it was good to get into that mindset again. Of course now with MapMyRun and Fitbit my training is much more targeted. I know exactly how much I have run and how long it took and how hard my heart worked. I still use my runner’s watch for the interval timing but it is really just a quaint relic of the marathon days now. Rebecca signed up for it as well. Originally we had planned to run it simultaneously, her in Vancouver and me here in Tigard. We had a couple of weeks to do it. Whenever we wanted. So we chose the original date of the real run. May 3. We decided to run really early. For Rebecca because she can’t run with a mask. It is hard with her asthma. This way she would be running with very few people on a trail that winds around False Bay in Vancouver. She has done it before and knows the distance from the door of her building around the Bay and back is 10K. Perfect. I flirted with a couple of routes. I could start from home and do an out and back. Out would be fast. A lot of downhill. But coming back would be slower and more arduous. I could run in circles around Washington Square Mall. I’ve done it before. It is relatively flat but there are a few sneaky uphills. And going in circles in a mall parking lot is  boring even if it is a huge setting. And I would have to be very alert to the cars that travel through there.  I could do Cook Park. A beautiful place to run but again it would involve doing circles and I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed to park there early in the morning. I ended up deciding to run starting from Portland Running company at Nimbus and Scholls Ferry. The Fanno Creek Trail is just a few steps from there. The trail is pretty, lots of birds and greenery and if it isn’t flooded it would be easy to navigate. I would have to run into downtown Tigard but even before COVID it never is crowded. I figured at 6 in the morning it would be pretty quiet. So it went pretty well. Of course the trail was flooded almost as soon as I set foot on it. So I ended up running back up to the road and running across the road to the other side of the overpass where the trail runs right next to the creek under the roadway. At 6 in the morning there was not a car in sight. Along the way, once I was on the trail, I didn’t see anyone except for a few families of geese and some other birds that I cannot name. I really should learn them. Rebecca had started a half an hour or so before me in Vancouver and had a good run. I managed to dodge the rain and also enjoyed my run. I kept thinking how much easier it is to run when you weight 122 instead of 180. Duh! My time wasn’t spectacular. But it was fine. Perhaps next time I will try to beat this time just to make it a little more interesting.

Other than that we are still socially distancing. Andy spoke to our local Chabad Rabbi the other day. Rabbi Orenstein brought us some challah and gefilte fish and a few other goodies. He left them by the front door, rang the bell and then took many steps back. They had a nice conversation but he was in a hurry to make his final deliveries before the sun set and shabbos began. That is the most outside conversation Andy has had, I think, except for his doctors visit, since the quarantine began.

I realize we aren’t officially in quarantine but it for me it seems close enough that I shall refer to it thusly. Since I do go out from time to time it truly isn’t a quarantine for me but for Andy it pretty much is,

We don’t watch the news. Too depressing and annoying. I do not want to see our evil dictator’s face or hear his incoherent ramblings. It isn’t like we are unaware of the outside world. We stay connected via the internet. If I chose to read about the virus, which I often do, I can read CNN, NYTimes, Chicago Tribune or BBC News and see what they have to say. I do not watch FOX. I do not read anything having to do with FOX. And for a real slice of life there is always Facebook. Ha ha.

That is all for now. Stay safe, stay healthy.

Musings

I wrote this 6 years ago. I remember these things happening but I don’t remember writing this. I didn’t actually finish it but I think I will post it anyway. Who would have guessed that 6 years later, I would be in Oregon, social distancing and at this point, making running the center of my life.

Yesterday two things happened that made me want to post on Facebook right away. But I was out and about and by the time I got to my computer I realized that these needed more than a Facebook post. I was afraid I would sound too trivial if I just threw these things out there and I didn't want to trivialize either situation.
I was walking past our local sports bar. It sits in a forlorn corner of a small shopping center and while I have never been inside I imagine the kinds of people I might see in there. Locals, mainly, who have not gotten a hold of the good life some of us imagine living. They stop in for a beer that lasts all evening, watching the Niners or the Sixers or whoever is playing on the overhead TV. Perhaps they meet their friends there every Wednesday night. I don't know. I just kind of imagine it that way. The outside of the bar is not particularly inviting. I think the outside walls are painted cinderblock and there is a corner by the street that people use to smoke their smokes and as a restroom when everything is closed (I guess).
I had just stepped off the Wharf Center bus and was on my way to the office when I felt a moment of deja vu. As I passed the bar there were two youngish people, a man and woman, leaning against the wall of the bar and they were conversing with a slightly older guy. The woman had something in her hand that could have been a film cannister or something like that. The younger guy had a baggy with weed in it. And I am sure of that. It was a lid! I hadn't seen something like that in forever. Anyway the older guy was shaking his head no so I guess there was no deal and when they noticed me passing by they sort of tried to hide what they were doing. But I am a child of the 60's! I know what I saw. Anyway they didn't have to worry about me. I wasn't going to do or say anything. But it just seemed so weird to see that. Kind of a misplaced event or transaction. Not what I expected to see there. But then again why not?
The second thing I want to talk about was my trip to the library. And this is actually about my return trip, not being at the library. Between Andy's office and Front street, among other things, are a couple of pay parking lots. Except for one they are kind of on the honor system I guess. I haven't ever seen an attendant at them. But the one closest to Front Street has a guy who tries to attract people to that particular lot. He stands next to or in the street and yells at the cars cruising by that this is the place they want to park. And some listen to him. We always say hi to each other. And we introduced ourselves once. He is another kind of down and outer person. Called himself Sergeant Major Kevin Something or other of the U.S. Marine Corps Retired. Served in Viet Nam. The way he said it, standing there in his flip flops and dirty torn tee shirt all I could answer as we shook hands was, Thank you for your service. Not something I would have said so many years ago. But his response shook me. Tears came to his eyes and he said that no one had ever said that to him. He looks older than he is I am sure and dresses very shabbily but he always has a smile. Until yesterday. He wasn't there. There was a new guy. I smiled as I walked by him and he immediately said, "today is my first day at work!" I said great or something like that. Then he rambled on about how he had been on the job for three hours and his feet kind of hurt but he had gotten 25 customers. Then he said, " Man, I have been out of work for so long!" He had such a happy look on his face. I don't know how he gets paid, by the hour or by how many cars he attracts but he was obviously so happy to be employed. I also wonder what happened to his predecessor. I hope he is okay.
And of course I was eager to post about these two encounters but it made me think a lot about Lahaina and what this town is really like. There are people here who are wealthy and there are people here who are practically unemployable and don't really know where their next meal will be coming from. And there are lots of people in the middle. But the thing is, even though we don't appear to have a homeless problem such as we have in SF or Oakland they do seem to exist in Lahaina. I don't think I have ever seen a panhandler on Front Street or any of the side streets. There are so many tourists here  and I am sure they are oblivious to anything except the souvenir stores and historic buildings. They stay at the fancy hotels or condos in Ka'anapali or in Wailea. They come by tender from the the huge cruise ships and they jump onto the Roberts tour busses. They see the Lahaina that they want to see, Maui that the businesses want them to see.

I am feeling so lethargic. It is the day after our Passover Seder. Normally I would be trying to figure out how to fit all the leftovers into the refrigerator. This year, since it was just the two of us and I couldn’t run to the store if I had forgotten something, the fridge isn’t quite full. There is room for more stuff but I have no plans for exotic meals so it will just slowly empty, just as our wine fridge has.
Every day is pretty much the same. Waking up around 7 and checking the emails and posts. Getting dressed. Going downstairs for coffee and breakfast. Almost always one form or another of oatmeal and berries. I make the bed. Straighten up whatever needs to straightened which isn’t much. Put away clean dishes. Tuesdays I go to my virtual WW workshop through Zoom. That takes a whole half hour of my day. Then I pretty much compulsively sit and look at the news and posting on my iPad. I commiserate with friends and their woes, birthdays and celebrations of all kinds that pass unnoticed. We finally had to cancel our cruise to the Arctic. So sad. Andy spent the good part of a day trying to get refunds from hotels, airlines and car rental places. Our cruise itself was booked through our wonderful travel agents at Cruise Adventures in Walnut Creek and they took care of that. We think about things we might do when this is over but haven’t even made any tentative plans since we have no idea how long this will last.
In the afternoons I sometimes take a walk. I used to walk the mall every morning for 2 hours. Now I find it hard to walk a couple miles in my neighborhood. I just don’t feel motivated. But I know that when I do go out I feel so much better. Especially now that it is warming up and the sun is shining. But still I hang around the house. I guess part of my reluctance to go out is knowing I will have to strategize staying away from people who are also outside walking. There are still more people walking without masks than with masks. Lots of younger adults and kids who must feel invulnerable. I guess. Don’t know why else they would forego wearing masks.
About 4 p.m. many afternoons we have a glass of wine. And we watch some programs. Agatha Christie, Buffy, Angel, Murdock. Once a week we watch NCIS. That is the only regular TV program we watch right now. Sigh. We watched a few of the NY Met operas last week. Giving ourselves a break from them this week.
Lunch and dinner are often free for alls. Andy is a picky eater so he often will just have toast and sour cream for lunch and a can of soup for dinner. He doesn’t  particularly like leftovers and I don’t particularly like cooking every night so some nights are pretty lean for him. Occasionally he will cook something for himself. I make myself WW meals which I would gladly share but he thinks he doesn’t like them. Oh well.
I do connect with lots of friends and relatives online. Check in with them every week or so just to make sure all is well. So far the closest I have come to knowing someone with the virus is through one of our daughters. She says people in her office have family members who have died and one member of her group has died. Although we don’t know anyone who has it, the numbers for our county are pretty high so there is a constant state of anxiety hanging in the air in our house. We do everything we can to mitigate the dangers. We don’t go to stores, we stay inside. We don’t let people in the house. But it still hangs over our heads. We read the numbers for the world, Europe, the U.S., our state, our county. Very unnerving.
Today came the news out of Asia that a second wave of infections is hitting Wuhan, Hong Kong and Singapore. Perhaps we can learn from them. Perhaps the quarantine rather than being lifted will last longer and be even more stringent. Who knows?

May 3 1965

Funny how I think I remember so much and then I look at what I wrote on May 2, 1965, I see how much I had forgotten. 

As we flew east towards NYC I could see the Grand Canyon, where our family had spent a week with our cousins the previous summer! I also mention flying over the Rockies, seeing the Missouri River, then the Mississippi River and then one of the Great Lakes. I suppose it was Lake Michigan but I don’t know for sure. My journal says we were traveling at 565 miles per hour at a height of 3300 ft. I suspect I dropped a zero there. I mention being served champagne. Grandma didn’t seem to care if I drank alcohol. But I don’t think I drank very much. I do mention that we were offered champagne twice on the LA to NYC flight but on Sabena we were offered champagne before the meal, during the meal, after the meal and that if you asked, they brought more! As someone pointed out in a comment these were the days before our Surgeon General’s warnings of the dangers of cigarette smoking. So small packages of cigarettes were freely handed out to all the passengers. We squirreled them away because Grandma knew they would come in handy in Czechoslovakia. I know we had a couple of cartons in our luggage. 

I am going to keep on referring to the Czech Republic as Czechoslovakia even though then is was then the CSSR, Czech and Slovak Socialist Republic. I grew up calling it that and I just have a hard time adjusting. Also, spellcheck defers to Czechoslovakia so that makes it easy.

I made some rather sweeping generalizations in my journal. I am curious where our bus took us between airports. I say that NYC looks nicer than LA because there are more trees. Maybe I didn’t have my glasses on. Who knows? 

Just before we landed in Brussels we were served a breakfast of cheese omelets, another first for me. Unfortunately I do remember feeling quite queasy after eating it and somewhere between getting off the plane and reboarding for Rome I heaved it up. In a toilet. So no mess. But it put me off omelets for years.

I observed that our new crew contained a few more males and they all looked like Peter Sellers with a mustache. Must have been after I had seen the Pink Panther.

This third leg of the journey was quite a bumpy ride. Up and down and sideways and my tummy was still not right. I knew when we passed over the Alps but I wrote that I would just make out the tops of them, the clouds were so dense. The clouds must have cleared some time after that because then I could see the Mediterranean. And I could make out the distinctive boot shape of the Italian peninsula. Again, not sure if that wasn’t a bit of hyperbole but it must have been a bit evident. I compared the flat, patchwork crop filled fields of Belgium to the rolling plains of Italy. I didn’t see many crops in the Italian fields. 

We landed at the old Ciampino airport for Rome which is quite a bit closer to the city center than the newer Leonardo da Vinci Fiumicino Airport. We had no problems going through customs and immigration. They were not targeting foreigners with “English” names. But oh my goodness, they went through our traveling companions suitcases with a fine tooth comb. There were a lot of highly indignant, very vocal travelers from our group who were having various items removed from their luggage. I wish now I had written down exactly what I saw being removed. I imagine there were lots of gifts for family members. Probably the same things we had in our suitcases. But the officials didn’t check us.

So once again we boarded buses this time to take us into Rome. We had a hotel room for 2 nights and then we were on our own. Before we reached the hotel though we had to go on a tour of the city, probably because it was still too early for us to check into our hotel. I know I nodded off but Grandma kept nudging me awake as we drove by the monument to Victor Emanuel, the Forum and the Parthenon. We stopped very briefly at the Trevi fountain. I had seen 3 Coins in a Fountain so I knew what to do (Spoiler alert) my wish was granted. I did come back to Rome. We also managed to get into the Colesseum which was completely encircled by busy, crowded streets. It still is but as I recall there was no margin at all around it then. Now, I believe, there is some kind of buffer between the traffic and this ancient monument. We went inside, and I remarked at how small it seemed. I referred to the cells that the gladiators and animals stayed in as dungeons. 

Finally, about 5 p.m. or so, we got to the hotel. I know I was exhausted. To this day I do not do the West Coast to Europe flights well. Takes me days to adjust. From the outside the hotel we were staying in looked nice and to my eyes fancy but there was no private bathroom for us. It was down the hall a stretch. Well that was another first for me. And it upset some of our traveling companions. But Grandma was a trouper and just shrugged it off. We would be experiencing a lot of that in our travels, she explained. Very European and we should adapt.

After a good sleep, I say that because I always slept well in a bed, we started off our first full day in Rome. We had coffee and rolls in the hotel dining room. Oh my gosh! Those rolls. To this day I can still remember their aroma, their crusty outside, their chewy, lovely inside. And the butter. Well, I was in love. They were so tasty. After we ate we inquired about getting to the Vatican. Grandma was an obsessive Catholic. Which is to say she knew really nothing about her religion but she knew that whatever she did was right and everyone else was borderline on their way to Hell. Among her goals for us in the Eternal City was to get to the Vatican as often as possible, visit every pilgrimage church we could, visit every other church we saw if possible and meet the pope in a semi private audience. She also had a name of a priest who might be able to get us an introduction to Cardinal Beran, the Czech cardinal, and she felt we should do our best to meet him. The other goal which we pursued in every city and town we visited was to find BARGAINS. She had been to Europe a couple times after the war and had brought home lots of BARGAINS and she was determined that we could do that again. Never mind that 20 years had passed and the Marshall plan had been very effective in bringing Europe back out of the ravages of the war. 

But I digress. It turned out there was a bus very close to our hotel that travelled on via Barberini and it would take us close to Vatican City. So we bought bus tickets and jumped the bus, maybe the 41, and off we went. Streets whizzed by and I got a more wide awake look at Rome. Lots of multistoried buildings. Mostly old looking, some with pockmarks from bullets. That was something I saw a lot of all over Europe. Crazy traffic. Lots of Vespas with nicely dressed people. So many little stores and shops, so many people on the streets! We crossed the Tiber and there was Vatican City! 

Grandma had made me a traveling outfit out of some blue, green, and red paisley jersey material. A sleeveless lined shell and with that some kind of gathered skirt. I also had a green sweater to go with it. Grandma always wore a suit. We approached the entrance to St. Peter’s. In 1965 you could pretty much freely enter the church without fanfare. There were no lines, no barricades. You did, however, have to pass the scrutiny of the vigilant nuns who made sure everyone getting past them was appropriately attired. Where I came from that meant, above all, you had to have your head covered if you were female. I know I was shocked when I saw my Aunt Anne enter a church in Phoenix in shorts and no head covering, but that was the exception, not the rule. And the priest there knew Aunt Anne and knew she was a very observant parishener. But the Vatican nuns didn’t know me, didn’t know that I was a non observant, sabbath flouting Catholic. All they knew was that my arms weren’t covered. So they very vehemently motioned for me to take my head scarf off and cover my shoulders. I was not going to offend G-d and the Blessed Mother and all the saints by going into St. Peter’s bare shouldered!

Through the tall ancient doors we went, into the enormous cathedral, and I have to admit I was pretty impressed. It was stunning. So much color, so much gold, so many statues, altars, relics! The ceiling seemed to literally reach to the heavens. We wandered up the aisles visiting every chapel, saw the Pieta and the remains of numerous saints. We sat down for a while in one of the pews. I tried to be solemn and reverent but it wasn’t sincere. Grandma was so intent on bringing me back into the fold and it seemed easier to go along with her than to argue. We had the better part of 4 months we were going to spend together. I pretended to pray. She decided we should go to confession. There were a couple dozen confessionals scattered here and there. They had signs on them saying what languages the priests would hear your confession in. We went to one of the English ones. I wonder what Grandma confessed. She had hardly any penance to do. I did my best. I had only been to confession once before in my life. I stumbled through, trying to remember what to say, what to do, what prayer to recite. The priest was not impressed. I know that he sounded a little exasperated with me. But I survived. I did my penance and we left cleansed of our sins. And I knew that was going to have to behave for at least a little while. At least until we went to mass on Sunday morning. 

I am going on a virtual trip

Anyone want to join me? My sister suggested I take a virtual cruise somewhere and report on it. Especially the cuisine. Well, I thought about it and I just couldn’t get anything going. Then I started thinking about my first trip to Europe and decided to dig into my teenage musings of Travels with Grandma. Maybe I can turn that into something.

When I was 16 my Grandmother Dailey (my Daddy’s mom) took me on a 4 month tour of Europe. She wanted to go back to the Old Country as she and my daddy called Czechoslovakia. I don’t know if she really wanted my company. She told me a few months into our journey that she brought me to make a lady out of me. But I think she really needed help. She was way old. 70! I thought she was ancient. But she was pretty mobile for her years. As it turned out she could out walk me almost every day of our trip. But I was strong and I had a drivers license. She wanted to buy a car and drive from Germany to Czechoslovakia and maybe Austria and Hungary. For that she needed help. I was the oldest of her grandchildren and in some ways the most malleable so I was designated as the traveling companion. 

We made plans. We poured over Frommer’s $5 a Day tour guide of Europe. The original plan was that we would take the S.S. France from New York to Le Havre. I started acquiring a wardrobe for travel on a ship. It seemed so romantic and exciting. I read Our Hearts Were Young and Gay, by Emily Kimbrough and Cornelia Otis Skinner. About their wild (?) adventure to Europe in the 1920’s. I was ready! 

Then Grandma found a charter flight from Los Angeles to Rome that was so much cheaper than the travel she had originally planned. It was with St. Anthony’s Catholic Church in Los Angeles. A mostly Italian congregation. At that time charters were becoming very popular. All you needed was membership in some kind of affinity group and you could get to Europe fairly cheaply. I am thinking that at that time our round trip tickets were about $300 for each of us. Not bad. Of course my mother tried to throw a wrench in the gears. She was terrified of flying. She wasn’t going to have me fly. But wiser counsel prevailed and the trip was on again. So at the beginning of May, 1965, we drove to the Imperial Terminal at LAX and met our couple hundred fellow travelers. The terminal may have been the original terminal at LAX but by then it was just a little low building that charters flew from. It was an interesting assortment of people. Mostly I heard Italian being spoken. There were a lot of families. Young families who were going to Italy for the first time since the mother or father had emigrated to America. Going home to show off the wife or husband and the grandchildren. It was pretty exciting and emotional. And there was the priest who was leading this group. I cannot remember his name. but he was bustling hither and thither, calming people, checking papers. 

We got on the plane. It was a TransInternational Airlines plane. Pretty sure it was a Boeing 707. We sat in rows 3 by 3. I got the window seat and Grandma had the middle seat. A woman in her late twenties or early thirties sat next to Grandma. She was from Italy. Her husband was staying at home while she flew to see her parents. She was so excited. I think for a lot of people it was their first airplane flight and their first trip back home. We all settled into our seats while the stewardesses, in their vaguely military looking uniforms, explained all the safety procedures. Somethings never change. They were a very nice group of attendants. Someone asked them about how many people could fly on plane that size. I really don’t remember the numbers but she said that we were no where near full capacity. That they flew soldiers to Vietnam and could cram in another 100 or so seats at least and fly them with all their gear. Seemed almost impossible to believe. (And this was several months before the conflict was officially called a War)

I was a little anxious as we took off. My mother’s fears kind of rubbed off on me. But once we were up in the air it was just too exciting to hang onto being scared. I watched as we passed over East L.A., the mountains, and across the deserts. Somewhere along the way we were served a meal. I do not remember what it was. I suspect it was chicken. I do know I liked it even though it seemed a little meager. Halfway across the U.S. some of the babies onboard needed to take naps. Out came slings which the stewardess strung up beneath the overhead bins. It was amazing. I think there were about six of them. In went the babies and quiet ensued. Grandma and the lady talked quite a bit. This was the first time I heard Grandma discuss her marital status with people. Her name was Anna Marie Dailey. She was Mrs. Dailey. Her seat companion asked where Mr. Dailey was. Grandma said he died. Well! Technically she was right. He had died in 1961. But I knew Grandma had been divorced from Grandpa. She left him in the thirties. Grandpa had waited until his strictly Irish Catholic mother had died in the late forties before getting a divorce based on desertion, I assume. But flying with this group made it important for Grandma to appear to be a respectable widow, not a vulgar divorcee. And I kept my mouth shut. I’m glad I did. 

We left L.A. around 11 a.m. and arrived in NYC in the evening. We had to take chartered buses from one airport to another. Not sure if we went from JFK to La Guardia or the other way around. All I do remember is that when we boarded the Sabena Airlines plane we were greeted by a MALE attendant who offered us wrapped hard candies. We thought it oh so elegant. We settled in and after taking off we were served a light meal of a roll and a shrimp salad and some kind of dessert. It was a little disappointing because we were hungry. But the shrimp salad was kind of classy so there was a minimum of grumbling. Of course, as it turned out, that was not the whole meal. While we were busy scarfing down the salad, roll and dessert, the cabin crew had been busy heating up the filet mignon. We felt kind of silly when we realized what was going on. It was pretty tasty as I recall. My first shrimp salad, my first filet mignon. Yum! Then we settled in for the next few hours flight to Brussels where we would refuel and fly on to Rome.

First written on 3-13

I went for a long walk yesterday. Discovered some new trails near my house. Well, they aren’t really new but they are new to me. They meander along little brooks. There are a lot of them around here. So refreshing. It looks like there might be beavers around here too. But I haven’t seen any. Just the dams they have built. 

There were a lot of people walking and running on the trails and sidewalks. Some were solo but some were in groups. And then when I passed through a park there were little kids, some toddlers, more than a dozen of them, playing on the playing ground equipment. Their parents, grandparents and caregivers seemingly oblivious to the virus. What is it about people? Are they in denial? Are they thinking it just won’t effect them? I don’t get it. I gave them a wide berth and continued on my way.

This morning Andy and I got up early to get to Fred Meyer when it opened. We arrived 10 minutes early but it became apparent that something was not right. A woman walked up to the locked doors and diverted her attention to a little sign tacked up on the Starbucks sandwich board and then threw up her arms and walked back to her car. I jumped out of our car and read the sign. In order to have the shelves stocked they are opening an hour later than normal. Darn. So we drove over to Safeway. We managed to miss picking up toilet paper, canned goods, flour, cake mix and liverwurst but there were lots of fresh vegetables and fruits. 

It is hard to stay off the iPad. I keep wanting to see if there is anything new to report. So much rehashing of posts from the day before. 

Rebecca thinks it would be better for her to stay in Canada. She thinks, 1- she can’t get out and 2- she doesn’t want to risk infecting us. I get it but I would rather she come home. 3- she has health insurance in Canada, not here in the U.S. After tomorrow they are sending the library workers home. Fortunately the Librarian has a project she can work on from home so she can keep being paid. She walked 11K this morning, all the way from downtown Vancouver to UBC. She wanted to avoid the bus and she wanted to get in her steps. I think they are ending bus service after this week. Things seem to be pretty severe there. She is having a hard time finding stuff on the store shelves. 

Sonia has us signed up on Marco Polo. I don’t really get it. You can form groups and send video messages. Not sure why you need the app to do it. Maybe the quality is better than regular video. And there are editing opportunities. We’ve sent a few videos but nothing too exciting.

This morning the first WW workshops went online. At the 9:30 workshop I couldn’t figure out how to use Zoom so I missed most of the workshop. But I didn’t give up. Attended another one at noon and figured it out. Very exciting to be able to do it but it lacks something that happens when you are really in the same room as other people. There were a lot of silences. But my coach Kathy and the noon coach tried very hard and I am sure the next meetings will go more smoothly.

It is only one day since my last post and oh my, the changes it has brought. This morning our governor threatened to close restaurants and bars but then stepped back and said there would be no closings. Then the chefs and restaurant industry raised a collective shout out and she decided that  only take out and delivery would be allowed. No gatherings of more than 25 people. That means almost everywhere except grocery stores, retail stores, and what else? Kaiser has notified us that most regular appointments will be dealt with online or by phone. Elective surgery is out the door. Rebecca informs us that her YMCA is closed. She goes there several times a week for various classes. Sonia is at home because she has been sick but now her office is closed down and all work is to be done at home. Seven Bay Area counties in California are under a modified curfew. No one is supposed to leave their homes except to get food or medical help or to work if they have a job to go to. I expect that will be happening here too if our governor has any sense.
Rosie and I delivered Meals on Wheels this morning. When I walked into the lounge where all the seniors normally gather for TV and bingo, it was completely empty. Usually there are a good 50 or so elders and disabled chatting or dozing. And this morning but there are new protocols for the deliveries. No hand to hand contact. We put the meals in a plastic bag and leave it on a door knob. Two days worth of meals for each client. No nice fresh salads or dessert. Just a main dish, a cooked vegetable, an apple and a carton of milk. Most of the clients are totally onboard. They get it that it is them we are protecting and while it was alway nice to give a friendly hug or squeeze of the hand to some of our clients, they understand it won’t happen. We have to keep a 6 foot distance between them and us. We had a handout that explained it all and some of them had been contacted by phone and already knew. But we were supposed to explain in person as well. Funny how one’s Spanish gets better and better when you really, truly need to use it. Only one client thought it was a stupid plan. I gave my best shot at explaining why two days of meals in one delivery made her safer from exposure but she wasn’t buying it. Oh well.
I did go for my walk today. I drove to the mall but walked around outside. Didn’t go in. Didn’t see anyone outside except from afar. I have no idea if any of the regulars were there or not. There was a huge number of plumbing trucks parked where the regulars park and it appeared that there was some kind of big plumbing issue going on. They had a very noisy pump going right next to the security office. If I had gone inside and if the regulars were there I would have gotten an idea of what was happening but I didn’t go in.
After my walk and meals on wheels I returned home and we spent the rest of the day watching Buffy and Angel, eating and reading and catching up on the latest COVID news. Things change from hour to hour. We got a notice that Canadian ports will be closed to cruise ships until July 1st. I sent Rebecca a text of condolence since she runs and walks along the sea wall by the cruise ship terminal in Vancouver almost every day and looks forward to seeing the ships from the various cruise lines during the cruising season. Then Andy pointed out to me that our cruise in May and June was supposed to stop in St. John’s, Newfoundland. So much for that. Of course the whole cruise may be off anyway so it may be a moot point.
It is evening now. I have served Andy the last of the corned beef and cabbage for dinner. We started celebrating St. Patricks Day a little early. I had a meal from the freezer. I think we can survive on what we have in the pantry and the fridge for maybe two or three weeks. But I do need to go to the store to see if I can get some fresh fruit and vegetables. And we still don’t have any hand sanitizer. Which I would happily make myself if the ingredients were available. I’ll look. Don’t have much hope. I’ll go either very late tonight or very early tomorrow morning.
Can’t wait (dreading may be a better word) to see what new developments tomorrow brings.