View from here - Gayle Foster

By the time you read this, I should be near stark-raving mad. Ol’ Bill and I have pretty much volunteered to confine ourselves to home for the duration of this COVID-19 or coronavirus. We are healthy (as of this writing), but we are in that “elderly” demographic, therefore likely to contract it if exposed somewhere along the line.

First, we don’t consider ourselves “elderly.” That is always 10 years older than me, however old I am. But if 60 is considered elderly, I hate to even think of it, but that puts my daughter only 10 years away from being elderly herself! That’s just not right.

So, as I write, we have just completed Day 2 of our self-imposed isolation. Except for the pizza run I made Saturday night. And his run through McDonald’s for coffee.

The thing is, even if we wanted to go somewhere, where could we go? The governor has closed the schools and therefore the rec center where we go a couple times a week. The pool where I do water exercises has closed for a month – at this point. Now, restaurants and bars are closing, except for drive-thru. I don’t think there’s a drive-thru window at the Village Inn.

No St. Patrick’s Day events. No basketball. No Indians. No concerts. My church was even cancelled for two weeks. Ol’ Bill said golf tournaments were cancelled. I didn’t hear that, but wonder if that’s true. They’re out there in the wide open spaces. Just keep the crowds away. The players don’t get that close together, do they? It’s not like they have a dugout or bench to wait on.

These are, indeed, strange times.

At first, I sort of blew it all off, thinking it was some sort of conspiracy, but now they’ve got my attention. And for that I have to stop watching the news and reading the papers. Although I did find some reports of good people doing good things for their neighbors, like making sure older people have food or young parents have child care.

Ignore that idiot that bought up all the Purel he could find and gouging people by charging outrageous prices. That’s almost war profiteering or carpetbagging.

It’s time for puppy and baby videos or old ladies doing the moonwalk. Light entertainment.

Or, looking at the sun trying to come through my west-looking kitchen window, I could think about doing some spring cleaning. We did get the taxes sorted out and ready to go to our tax lady, so there’s that.

I will feel a real sense of accomplishment if we could at least clean out the kitchen cupboards. When Ol’ Bill reads this, he’ll question the “we” part.

I am not a spring cleaner and have never been accused of being one. Maybe that’s why one day many years ago I walked into a friend’s house and wondered aloud what was wrong with her refrigerator that was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. She told me there was nothing wrong, she was simply cleaning behind it. What?? Who does that? The only time my parents pulled the fridge out from the wall was when they bought a new one. And then we noticed the varying shades of paint the kitchen had been painted over the years, with the painter reaching the brush behind it as far as he could. Hard telling what’s behind my refrigerator. Or under it. Maybe this year.

It could be worse. We could be really stuck in the house with bad weather. At least we can get out for a walk or even a scenic drive with a drive through an ice cream stand. Stay positive. Wash your hands. We’ll get through this.

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