A Spring Day...

...with a sharp wind. It rained and the cold north wind blew and we rejoiced because we need rain so desperately.  We were in danger of succumbing to total inertia tinged with hypochondria and decided to bestir ourselves for a walk around the deserted neighborhood. A necessarily brisk walk because the north wind blew cold in our faces. It was an entirely fitting time to don my beautiful Fair Isle beanie from Lady Findhorn. 

Thanks to everyone for your birthday wishes.I know that everybody is struggling with this latest crisis and for me, anyway, sharing our stories is essential. It is what binds us together even when we are being encouraged to maintain 'social distance'. Thanks to all of you who shared your stories and took the time to read mine. My thoughts are with all of you as we all ponder complicated decisions.

 My birthday wish came true in the form of Dana and Jim returning from their truncated holiday in Spain, tired but happy to be home. They are now in self-quarantine for two weeks per the advice of the CDC, since they had been in Spain and on a plane. We had a Face Time talk this morning just to get the details of their mad dash out of Europe and London just as closures, cancellations and lockdowns were taking hold. Peter, who was worried about exposure to someone who had just returned from Madrid, arrived home from university last night wondering what HE should do. He has been deemed too many degrees of separation from anybody who is sick to isolate himself totally, and has been designated the procurer of groceries. 

John and I  have elected to stay home for all but essential things because we are clearly in the 'most vulnerable' category and our children and even our grandchildren have told us they think we should. It makes me realize that in the grand scheme of things, WE are the problem because of our perceived  vulnerability. The irony of fact that I became one year older on the very day this realization was dawning is not lost upon me. 

There was a picture in the paper this morning of a large apartment building in Milano with quarantined residents on their balconies serenading workers at the hospital across the street, and, I suspect, each other.  It occurs to me that we have survived floods, power shut-offs and mandatory evacuations. Our greatest source of comfort during these times was our family, especially Dana and Jim who shared quarters with us. Now, as we still prepare for a new fire season, we find ourselves shut into our houses, separated even from our families, and encouraged not to leave them, except for essentials.

It is a strange and surreal world...