Clearing My Mind I

I’m not going for anything cohesive today. Just whatever comes up. Hopefully it’s worth reading.

Looking for silver linings today as the world continues to change. Maybe we come out the other side of all this with a dramatically changed understanding of how we were living. The unsustainability of it all. The need to plan for the long-term and focus on future generations. The fact that our reaction to COVID-19 should also be our reaction to climate change. Maybe.

Another silver lining closer to home. In my home, actually. Spring cleaning is underway a bit early. It feels good. Like there’s a little something we have control over still. Yesterday I did some overhauling of the kitchen. My wife tackled the living room. Later on I’ll summon my courage and see what can be done in the garage. Yikes!

Something tough I’ve hit on: making food. Cooking and baking are significant ways that I express love and support for others. My instinct right now is to make food for my parents and other folks in the community who could use it. But am I a vector for COVID-19? Would my food be accepted? Do I know who I should and shouldn’t interact around? The answer to all of these questions is “I don’t know.” That sucks.

But I’ll feed my wife and my daughter ’til they’re full, and that will fill me up.

I don’t know how much longer I’ll be working. My days are spent in an elementary school, and I suspect we might not make it through the week before the doors are locked. I have plenty to fill my time, and it’ll be a chance to really go deep into my manuscript revisions for my novel. 

What will be hard, though, is if I’m not working and my wife is. We’re separated by a few years, and she’s right on the edge of being at higher risk if she contracts COVID-19. 

Every morning, I say goodbye to her in the driveway with a quick hug and kiss. Then I walk the dog, and she flashes her headlights at me as she drives by. After the Pekingese has done her business, we go inside, and I get ready for work. I do not want to amend this routine by going back inside and just spending the day there without her. That’s fine during school breaks, but not ideal. Now, though, it’s something I dread.

Dad’s birthday is Tuesday. St. Patrick’s Day baby. 

It cracks me up because when I mention this to kids at school, they either ask if he’s Irish or a leprechaun. He’s neither. Dad is French-Canadian, and while not a leprechaun, he does have some trickster in him.

I don’t know when we’ll celebrate, though. This new situation makes it tough, right? I guess we’ll see what happens. But I’ll give him a call. Maybe I’ll drive by and chuck a piece of birthday cake at the door. He’d legitimately find that hilarious. 

Besides, you gotta laugh at something these days.

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