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some good and some bad
Apr. 14th, 2020 09:45 amFirst, some Tuesday vibes.
Small (and big, sometimes simultaneously) ways daily life has changed during quarantine, recorded for posterity:
Grocery stores only let you in a few folks at a time. Most have started delineating lineups with six-feet gaps, the media of the day being chalk and tape. These impermanences must be refreshed periodically, and I think speak of how ephemeral people hope this thing will be.
People in my city have begun applauding at 7pm, out of their windows and off of their balconies, to show appreciation for front-line workers still out in the plague. This is, of course, no substitute for actually paying them right and taking good care of them -- so many of those still working are working because they are hostages to their wages in this city with a high cost of living. That said, I think the applause is as much for the applauders as the applaudees -- it creates a sense of community, just a little bit, every day at 7. Also it's great fun to smash pan lids together to make as big a noise as I can.
The air is clear. I smelled the ocean from home for the first time the other day. Canada has pretty good air quality, so our change is not as dramatic as other places, but there is still a shift. It's heartening, but also stomach-droppingly scary -- are things going to go back to normal after this? I don't want them to. Our normal is sick.
I have started joking with my brother over text. Just a little, but humour has not been a part of our relationship previously.
My nephew's birthday is next week. Poor kid loves having people over, but they can't, so my brother and sister-in-law are organizing all his friends to walk by the house at different points in the day. We each have a half-hour allotment in which to arrive, wave hello through a window, and move on in good time so we don't crowd the next folks. Later in the day, TL has organized that she and I will eat cake on Skype along with my brother's family so we can be "there" in a way.
TL's birthday is next week, too. I'm not even sure what we're going to do. How strange, how sad -- our first wedding anniversary passed last month with little fanfare, in quarantine. I had been hoping to throw a party before the world ended.
My favourite nerd pub, the Storm Crow Tavern, is closing for good because of this plague. It won't be the first or last little place I love that will close because of it. Let this be a lesson: always order the Vader helmet booze bowl while you still can, because you never know when the Vader helmet booze bowl will go away for good.
People seem to be feeling the impulse to contribute, as they can. The number of folks I've seen starting to sew masks en masse is an impulse I understand, but haven't personally been able to summon yet. There seems so little of real impact to do, but also I'm tired and afraid and that makes doing things difficult.
Interesting times. Some good, mostly bad.
Small (and big, sometimes simultaneously) ways daily life has changed during quarantine, recorded for posterity:
Grocery stores only let you in a few folks at a time. Most have started delineating lineups with six-feet gaps, the media of the day being chalk and tape. These impermanences must be refreshed periodically, and I think speak of how ephemeral people hope this thing will be.
People in my city have begun applauding at 7pm, out of their windows and off of their balconies, to show appreciation for front-line workers still out in the plague. This is, of course, no substitute for actually paying them right and taking good care of them -- so many of those still working are working because they are hostages to their wages in this city with a high cost of living. That said, I think the applause is as much for the applauders as the applaudees -- it creates a sense of community, just a little bit, every day at 7. Also it's great fun to smash pan lids together to make as big a noise as I can.
The air is clear. I smelled the ocean from home for the first time the other day. Canada has pretty good air quality, so our change is not as dramatic as other places, but there is still a shift. It's heartening, but also stomach-droppingly scary -- are things going to go back to normal after this? I don't want them to. Our normal is sick.
I have started joking with my brother over text. Just a little, but humour has not been a part of our relationship previously.
My nephew's birthday is next week. Poor kid loves having people over, but they can't, so my brother and sister-in-law are organizing all his friends to walk by the house at different points in the day. We each have a half-hour allotment in which to arrive, wave hello through a window, and move on in good time so we don't crowd the next folks. Later in the day, TL has organized that she and I will eat cake on Skype along with my brother's family so we can be "there" in a way.
TL's birthday is next week, too. I'm not even sure what we're going to do. How strange, how sad -- our first wedding anniversary passed last month with little fanfare, in quarantine. I had been hoping to throw a party before the world ended.
My favourite nerd pub, the Storm Crow Tavern, is closing for good because of this plague. It won't be the first or last little place I love that will close because of it. Let this be a lesson: always order the Vader helmet booze bowl while you still can, because you never know when the Vader helmet booze bowl will go away for good.
People seem to be feeling the impulse to contribute, as they can. The number of folks I've seen starting to sew masks en masse is an impulse I understand, but haven't personally been able to summon yet. There seems so little of real impact to do, but also I'm tired and afraid and that makes doing things difficult.
Interesting times. Some good, mostly bad.
