Louise Penny is one of my favorite authors, thanks to her wonderful Adam Gamache series. I receive her periodic newsletter and her words here resonated with me.
Am really hoping this finds you safe and healthy. I am both, and relatively sane. Have decided I am not actually stuck at home - I am now a "writer in residence". And this quarantine is beginning to feel normal.
How comforting, how disconcerting is that? Comforting that we can indeed adapt, and quickly, to this radical new reality. But disconcerting that it can feel anywhere close to normal.
I find I am both more relaxed and more anxious. The rapid, scary, dismantling of all that we'd known and taken for granted, has slowed. The restrictions on our freedom are now in place. So there is less shock. The ground beneath our feet has stopped shifting.
And so have we.
I find I am now less frightened. But more worried. About what the world, our lives, will look like when this is over. About what 'over' even means.
But then, I eat another chocolate bar, go for a walk, phone a friend, and feel better.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ Louise Penny~~~~~~~~~
Or, you watercolor your roots.
We've been "in" for a long time, haven't we? I know I will continue that life for a long while to come. While I want those who are in businesses that have closed during the quarantine to again be able to work again, I have no desire to venture out of my zone, to step inside any store or restaurant or even order take-out. If they are counting on people like me to save the economy, they are in for a big disappointment. About the only economy I'm saving is Instacart.
The first grill out of the year felt all the more exciting! We've had a wretched cold, rainy spring and when you get a good day, you savor it!
I just don't trust people in restaurants or take out to be healthy or careful. I trust Rick.
I have lived my life in optimism and trust. Never blind trust, but still, trusting, willing to see the best in people. In recent weeks I have seen that -- and I've seen the worst. And everything in-between.
I am shocked and disappointed that so few wear masks in public or mind social distance. It seems such a selfish thing to do. The more one is "out," the more they have the chance to catch covid-19 and pass it along, whether they have symptoms or not. That is a fact. These people put everyone's lives in danger. I'm sure that's not intentional but it still feels both ignorant and selfish, "all about me" in cases like this.
I am angry at protestors who storm my capitol city, many from out of state, and many who advocate assassination of our governor with threatening tweets, posts and signage. Their motive is more political than related to the virus. (I must confess, as they protest this morning at our capitol, we are in the midst of a thunder and lightning storm. I will happily mop every drop of water that rains into my basement if it will keep up all day.) I am aghast that a customer shot a security guard simply because he asked him to put on a mask before entering a store. At a different store, when asked by the clerk to please wear a mask, the customer grabbed her arm and wiped his nose and face on her sleeve. What has our world become?
As Louise Penny says, I am less frightened but more worried about what the world and our lives will be like when this is over. If it is over. And I don't think it will be. Not for a very long time.
I have seeds in starting trays and some in the ground. The trees in my neighborhood were in full bloom.
I loved passing them by and admiring their array of pink and white blossoms. Now only a few remain in flower.
I've read four or five books; felted gnomes and Santas, ducklings, lambs and French-attired bears. I've made scones and cookies, casseroles and soup, coffee cakes and muffins. I've painted birds and houses and the Toddler Twosome.
I'm close to finishing my book on our family history. I've enjoyed many walks to revel in nature at the Ditch and quiet moments with Lizzie at home. I've spend wonderful evenings with Rick and if it was possible, this has brought us even closer.
I read blogs and loads of articles I find in various sources. I watch British mysteries on Acorn, video on Netflix. I think I've seen every Perry Mason episode and way too much news. I disinfect my groceries and make lists of all the things I can cook.
And yes, the rains have come. And yes, I've been bailing my basement. This was the what I walked down to. And then it got worse. Fortunately, it is storage only and everything is elevated so no damage, but it's just super annoying.
I've lost eight pounds and my hair has grown out a good inch or so. I've whacked at it, unable to see the back of my head as I cut blindly. I don't worry about this too much because the only person I see with any regularity is Rick. Everyone else is too socially distant away to notice.
The roots have gone silver -- there's a good inch or so that I see at my hairline or when my hair is heavy enough to droop from the top of my head.
And so, I watercolored my roots.
Have you tried finding hair color online? Good luck with that. Good luck with finding powdered root color, too. It exists. They're just out. Just about everywhere. There is a world of women who are beginning to look like their mothers and it scares them. It scares me.
Now, lest you should think I've gone totally around the bend, I only do this on occasion (it washes out nicely, which isn't necessarily a good thing) and since I can only see the front, it is of marginal purpose.
Use a stiff brush and the cheapest water colors you can find. This is not the time for your Windsor-Newton or Daniel Smith palette. You'll only be able to get what you can see unless you're better with a mirror than I am. I suppose I could ask Rick to do the back (no -- not on a bet!) but the rest of my hair covers it up! It worked quite well.
(No watercolor? Eye shadow and applied with a stiff brush works, too.)
Oh, and don't go walking in the rain or else you'll be dripping watercolor down your face. Other than that, it works just fine!
It's not like there's anything else pressing. Just think of it as a break in the action.
Or, learn to live like Lizzie. Eat. Nap. Nap. Eat.
