Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 188 Lockdown-Everybody! Do It!
September 29, 2020—Day 188 SA Lockdown; Day 200 US Lockdown:
Ben Does It Swinging
That is 6 months, 4 days of my personal Lockdown, isolation, social distancing, virtual meetings, constant low-level/high-level anxiety . . . Yes, if you are in the U.S and caring, your Lockdown count should be higher. (I was blissfully holidaying, cavorting, hugging, karaoking in S.A. when the U.S. public was made aware of the treat, otherwise my Lockdown day count would be 200, too.)
Worldwide: More than One Million people are confirmed dead from CoVid. That is 1,000,000 children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, neighbors, colleagues, friends gone.
SA: 672,000 confirmed cases; 16,586 deaths; US: 7.18 million cases; 205,000 deaths.
And still, every day I am out—which is every day as I am one of the lucky (healthy) people who can get out—I see people either not wearing masks when within 6 ft perimeter of others, and what’s worse sort of waggling said masks about as if they were accessories and not necessities.
Jack Does it PIcking Blueberries
In the meantime, my mother, who lives in an assisted living facility, has not been outside, or had a casual visitor in 200 days. Day before yesterday, Mom called, delighted—and a tad nervous, but in that “I’m going to the prom” way to announce that they were reopening the dining room on Oct. 1st.
Mom, had her outfit all picked out for that first dinner “out.” What’s more, I’d just a few days earlier, received a note that the facility, officially Co-Vid free, was exploring how to allow visitors! Of which I, would absolutely be one!
So much for that fantasy… One of Mom’s primary caregivers, Chelsie. The “adorable girl” who brings mom art supplies, rubs her arthricit feet, fixes her hair and puts in earrings—brings light, joy, music into my mom’s tiny room—just tested positive with CoVid. Chelsie is home ill. Not in the hospital. And hopefully will not need to be hospitalized.
…You Can Too! Just do It!
I can not help wondering, who contaminated Chelsie—an “essential worker” the only barrier between Mom and other at-risk people: children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, neighbors, colleagues, friends . . .
My new favorite compliment:
Love Your Mask!
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Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 30 Lockdown
Saturday, April 25: SA Lockdown Day 30; C&K Quarantine Day 15
We are officially out of quarantine. Two weeks ago, yesterday, we arrived back in US.
Weird how being in Lockdown feels routine, normal sort of . . . in such an abnormal way… We’re all zooming, chatting with folks we never chatted with before, making friends with strangers—connected via shared separation. Or are we connecting because at 6-feet apart it’s safe? There’s a hook…
Worldwide: 2.8 million confirmed CoVid cases; more than 197,000 people have died.
Reminds me of how back in the days when were flew three-across-share-the elbow-rest we’d avoid talking to row mates entire hours-long flights until, in those finite minutes between wheels-down and exodus the plane would erupt in happy houresk chatter while everyone exchanged cheery “where you headed?” “Is this home for you?” “Enjoy your day!” chit-chat. There was a hook…
We’d go to serious lengths to limit conversation. A friend proudly relayed how on Southwest Flights (without unassigned seats), after shimmying into a window seat she’d casually “leave” a crumpled tissue on the seat beside her to dissuade would-be seatmates. Imagine the terror said tissue would strike now? I feigned sleep—including slack jaw and when necessary drool in demand. I wonder now, how I’d act?
It’s a push me-pull you: At the same time we’re ordering designer facemasks—Should Facemasks Be A Fashion Statement?—and signature sanitizer (here’s a recipe—add your own scent), we’re already lamenting the “good-ole days” of crowds & grand gatherings—wondering if we’ll ever get to cram thousands into a stadium—or even hundreds at a wedding again. Will tots of today get to rock shoulder-to-shoulder in a million-lipped hiss of Bu-bu-bu-Benny-and-the-jetssssssssss?
The New York Times recently solicited snippets of readers/viewers pre-pandimic memories and received over 700 submissions from around the world. Here’s the link.
A season or so ago, the New York Times launched a column called Modern Love, featuring personally essays of sweet-meets, etc. which spun into a podcast and then series. If you need some feel-good viewing, click on. Here’s the Modern Love trailer.
And now, capitalizing or sense of time rushing—and standing still—and impermanence the NYT has branched out into flash essays—100 words or less, called—bite-sized snippets in tumultuous times and love stories. If you have one, submit yours here Tiny Love Stories. Or, if, like me, it feels good to know what’s going on “over there” because I’m so over what’s happening “in here,” read on. And here’s the link to more:
“Will the Dishwasher End Us?
Big fight today before grocery shopping about the proper way to load knives into the dishwasher. A small yet pivotal moment in our shelter-at-home lives. Do we cause a scene in the Trader Joe’s line? Do we forgo collaboration on the grocery list? It’s drizzling, gray. The people behind us are a little too close. He’s wearing the jacket that my father gave him. I laugh, pull him toward me, say, “This is the dumbest fight I’ve ever been in.” He nods, kisses me. If we have to be stuck, at least we’re stuck together. — Madison Olivieri”
Enjoy! Because—Hit it Dionne! What the world needs now is love, sweet love…
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Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 25 Lockdown Limbo: Gotta Plan-Gotta Laugh!
Monday, April 20: SA Lockdown Day 25; C&K Quarantine Day 10
ONLY 25 ?????? Who am I to complain?
I know, right? When everyone in the US has been Self-Isolating/Safety-Distancing/ LOCKDOWN for a soooooooooo much longer than that! And WHOO-HOO! The curve in many places—Italy, China, Spain…California, Washington, New York is flattening. We are winning! Right! Right?
In SA, with 3,158 confirmed CoVid cases & 54 deaths they’re calling this Lockdown Limbo. That place of quiet between “Help! We’re gonna die!” and “Help! I’m going broke—let me out of here.”
In Jaws terms we’re in the boat with Sheriff Broady. Jaws has already killed, so we know what it can do; and its knows we’re here, stuck in the middle of the ocean with a dead motor, because it’s seen us and we’ve seen it. Duh…duh-duh… Do we wait? or Do we swim for it?
Or, if you prefer George Clooney over Roy Schneider (and who doesn’t) then we’re still out in the boat, in the middle of the ocean—during The Perfect Storm—drifting between swells.
We still have chance right?
It’s the anticipation that gets us.
It’s maddening not to be doing something…
So, I get why folks are getting restless, protesting—hollering at Governors & health officials “Let me Go!”
What am I doing? Barely visible over the top of my computer screen, conveniently close to the toaster, is a slightly softened stick of salted butter and jar of mixed berry jam… just to the right of that are chocolates (already unbagged and mounded into a tidy pile) I am weighing my options. Toast or candy? Toast or candy? Toast or candy…
And I’m planning. . . No matter what we wish, when officials free us from Lockdown CoVid will not be gone. Yet. There’s no telling when or if—as with polio, small pox, measles, TB—CoVid-19 will be just another bug to vaccinate against—please!
USA: About 755,000 CoVid cases; 40,000 dead. Yesterday was the 1st day since April 2 that the death toll in NY was less than 500.
We have to be vigilant and practical, i.e. Masking and Washing.
Which is why I’m reposting this simple doable grocery-washing procedure video by Dr. Jeffery VanWigen:
And through it all . . . We need to nourish a sense of humor and wonder, so I’m sharing a bit of both.
Wonder—as in wonderful seeing penguins tootling down the streets of Simons Town, SA.
Humor—Bravo! who thinks up these pandemic jokes!
Keep Smiling/keep shining/knowing you can always count on me….for corny songs.
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Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 22 Lockdown: Oldsters-No-Sew/No-Seeums-Prom
Friday, April 17: SA Lockdown Day 22; C&K Quarantine Day 7
Worldwide: More than 2,133 million CoVid-19 cases in 177 countries; at least 143,000 people have died.
7 days since we were evacuated from Cape Town, South Africa. The time has gone so quickly—and so slowly. We still aren’t in our home (we’ve let it to a NYC family with 3 small children), so we are still…just …floating… glug-glug. We aren’t alone, searches for “What Day Is It?” have spiked.
According to Psycologists, it’s a side effect of Lockdown. “The sensation is a result of losing social anchors, chronic stress and anxiety, and drastic changes to normal routines.”
Evidently, the need to know the day is so pernicious Cleveland News Anchor Todd Meany made a game show of it. So if you want to know the date google What Day is it Todd Meany? (If you’re like me, however, it’s forever Monday with Todd—makes me laugh!)
Floating is fine, for a time. But, spring is here. None of the painting, cleaning, sorting and organizing—or even mask sewing others are doing for us. No helping with the grandboys or tailgate visits either (as we are still quarantining.)
We just settled into our second “shelter” since arriving, in the village of Branford, CT. Why Branford? Why Connecticut at all? Why not somewhere warm at least? All I can say is we were not in our right minds when we tumbled off the Ethiopian Airlines into Dulles airport, 4:40 am last Friday morning. The sun was still down and so were our brains. Left with orders from the US Embassy in South Africa, to find our own ways to our “final destinations” and “quarantine” all 250 of us scattered. (How “quarantine” and “see ya later” figure in the same scenario is beyond me.)
News Flash! John Krasinski is Hosting a Virtual Prom for 2020 Seniors Tonight! 8:00pm EST/5:00pm PST. Everyone we’re INVITED!
Folks are getting CRANKY . . .The CoVid climate in the Connecticut/NY is frantic compared to South Africa a week ago—at least that’s I’ve witnessed in my 2 grocery runs. Curtis and I didn’t know there was only 1 person per family allowed in a grocery store until we joined a queue soldiered up outside Big Y Branford World Class Market. The line was about 30 people long, each dutifully spaced, minding their own business—we thought…Dang! You should have seen the glares when we took our place, side by side at the back of the line. We’re we dragging toilet paper—or a infected latex gloves—on our shoes? Did Curtis forget his pants? Somehow, Curtis realized or remembered only one person per family is permitted in a store at one time. I mean really, anyone in the line could see we were a couple—we were swathed in matching no-sew T-shirt masks after all. When the line moved, we dutifully split and each claimed a six-foot apart line. However, judging by the headshakes, that wasn’t good enough either. Those around us already knew we were together, they wanted. One. of. Us. To. Leave. Maybe I’m not versed in CoVid virus, so solve this story problem for me:
If there are 20 people allowed in a grocery store at the same time and two of them are “sheltering in place” in the same house, are chances of them infecting others while in the store greater than > less than < or equal to = the chances of 20 people each “sheltering in place” in different houses contaminating others?
I was still trying to solve the equation when a commotion erupted at the front of the line. A stopped, shriveled ancient man had made a horrendous mistake: he had started to enter the store directly! Who did he think he was? That “the line” didn’t begin until a spot between the row of shopping carts and a post—well out of eyesight of the door—made no difference to the Line Monitor/Sanitizer Squirter or those in line. They shot a round of grumbles at the old guy and ceremoniously booted him to the back of the line. The old guy looked at the line, shook his head and shuffled away. We left, too.
On the drive to the Big Y, we’d passed a quaint, old-fashioned looking groceries with heaps of colorful vegetables visible through the door. It was so picturesque I’d pointed it out as we passed. That a lack of lines was what allowed us to see inside hadn’t gone unnoticed, either. Caron’s Corner didn’t judgey-judge us because we shared a cart! And, while the paper/cleaning supply shelves were mostly bare, there were a few stacks of single-roll toilet papers and two packages of paper towels—one for me and one for the lady who snagged one just before me. I did have to sort of six-foot-away shoulder-checked another woman with a distinctly “Let me at those towels!” look in her eyes to get them. Our register total explained everything about the lack of lines in Caron’s Corner…still, we are provisioned up. I promise to tell you no lies and keep my germs to myself. (Thank you Georgia Satellites! ) & See you at the Prom!
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Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 18 Lockdown: Get A Grip
April 13, 2020-Day 18 of SA Lockdown: Day 3 US “Self-Isolation”
US: “Daily death toll has dropped; more than 560,000 CoVid cases—number of cases slower Saturday & Sunday
Returning brings with it another question: Where to go?
Do we return home, home to our comfortable, safe haven while possibly contaminated with CoVid virus? (Not an option as refugees from NYC are there.) Do we hunker down in NY—the epicenter of CoVid-19 horror with more cases than China? Fly onto Alaska, with only 272 Covid Cases, to quarantine there and then see the kids? Or hunker down in a cozy room wiht a kitchenette?
By the time evacuation day came, Curtis and I weren’t worried we were contagious. (99.2% certain anyway.) We’d been in seclusion for 14 days—14 since we’d flown in from Port Elizabeth, hopped a cab & knocked on the door of Manderley Lodge. We were fairly certain none of the other evacuees were either. (We all wore masks & kept our distance—which included not talking—which is odd, weird, uncharacteristic for Americans, tourists & otherwise.)
Plenty of space, right?
While awaiting evacuation, I fixated on the idea of renting an RV. Why?
We could sanitize the heck out of it.
Clean, prepare, store our own food.
Park some lovely isolated space—say Walmart or Starbucks parking lot.
Teach everyone the Happy Cell song! (Video below)
Watch a Chair Yoga Recital
Use our 14 days of post-flight quarantine in some deserted—if cold, snowy even—campgrounds…or rest areas & truck stops. By the time CoVid is eradicated, we’d be somewhere: Connecticut, Texas, Michigan …Alaska. Alaska! Yes!…no. Curtis pointed out the Canadian border was closed.
Map places to donate plasma once it’s confirmed we’re among the 85% who get CoVid-19 & Never know it! (Michigan will take it!)
We’d done fine cooped up in a tiny space so far. Options were endless…(I’m not the only one who thinks so; check out this article on the merits of RVing post CoVid.
Yeah right…who was I kidding?
On the drive from Washington D.C. to Connecticut we had to pull off 4 time just to go to the bathroom. Why? Restaurants are closed. Some gas stations have closed their toilets. Fast-food drive-through doors were locked. locked. locked. locked. (We didn’t try crawling in through the take-out window.)
Lockdown in South Africa and “Social Distancing” in the states are not the same. I’d been reading and hearing about neighborhood pizza-parties on the porch; Heart and Rainbow hunts through the neighborhood; grandparents and friends tailgating during birthday parties. Even casual walks around sounded divine. Freedom! So, in my mind, the idea of us getting to see Lexi, Ryan & the grandboys—even from the socially safe distance of 6 feet, sounded divine.
It was horrible! Horrible! Dylan, at 5, knows the CoVid rules. (Aiden, at 2? We didn’t even try…he can’t even watch Bapak on the phone without giving the screen kisses—we stayed away until Lexi called that he was napping.)
Knowing rules and sticking to them is hard. And definitely makes conversation—and visits awkward. Especially when you want to show Mimi & Bapak your newest trick, or claim your usual snuggle. Our tailgate meeting lasted about 5 minutes. Delusions of casually stop by to watch them hunt eggs, dashed, we beat it out of town.
After the 20 plus hours plane ride and a 7-hour drive, we were too bleary-eyed to think. So, we booked into a Residence Inn near Fairfield (we’d left our car at Lexi & Ryan’s) to get some rest and figure out the next step. But….half an hour before we arrived, someone from the Residence Inn called to be sure we brought Government papers. Government Papers? She went on to explain that as all non-essential travel had been banned, we had to show proof that our travel was “essential.” Evidently, 300 plus people let off at Dulles to “find our own ways” back to safely quarantine required Scotty from the Star Ship Enterprise.
So, back to the RV! Yeah! I was stoked…Curtis was silent. (Silent for Curtis is not unusual) nor is it a “No.” So I got busy finding where we’d travel in our RV. The question I should have been checking is not where should we go? The question I should have asked is: Where Can We Park the RV?
I finally checked the U.S. Campground Closure List:
Nationwide: All U.S. Army Corps of Engineers (COE) managed campgrounds have begun an orderly shutdown. Likewise, visitor centers, beaches, special events, etc.
Driving restrictions: A shelter-in-place order is in effect for all but essential activities. Any person coming into Connecticut by any mode of transportation is strongly urged to self-quarantine for 14 days.
Hotels: Lodging for leisure, vacation and other nonessential purposes is prohibited.
New Jersey county, city and utility managed campgrounds, State Parks &Forest campgrounds, restrooms, etc. are also all temporarily closed.
New York State Park campgrounds are closed.
All Hawaii State Parks and campgrounds will be closed until further notice. (A girl can dream.)
All this is to say: 1. We are not camping. 2. We are not glamping in an RV. 3. We are not in our cozy home. 4. We are somewhere in Conn. at a destination that will remain secret just in case the powers that be come looking for us.
And…I did get Curtis to try the Gentle Chair Yoga. He liked it…Well, he said he’d do it again, anyway.
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So, now that we’re settled—2 days into quarantine, what am I doing to keep busy? Recital practice begins at 5:00 pm!
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Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 16 Lockdown; Day 1 Re-entry
April 11, 2020-Day 16 of SA Lockdown: Day 1 US “Self-Isolation”
South Africa: CoVid-19 cases in Africa rise to over 12,700 – with 2,050 recoveries & 666 associated deaths
USA: More than 500,000 confirmed CoVid cases; NYPD reported that nearly 20% of its uniformed members - 7,096 people - called in sick
We’re Back!
We answered the big “Should we stay or should we go?” question Thursday morning by joining about 300 others outside Cape Town Stadium Thursday morning to begin evacuation. Our instructions were to rendezvous at the chosen assembly point: Cape Town Stadium, Gate One between 8: 40 am and 10:40 am.
The TV Camera Captured our “Good Sides”! Click on the picture for the article about our evacuation from SA
Gloria, our Manderley Lodge hostess organized an uber escort, fried up one last hearty traditional breakfast and shoved us out the door at 8: 15. Although she said she didn’t want us to leave—as it would be “quite lonely” without us—she didn’t want us to be late either. I popped an apple in my bag, cut a few others in half for the birds and waved goodbye.
So Long Manderley Lodge…and Gloria…and those tasty breakfasts!
Twelve days into the SA Lockdown, 15 after we were originally scheduled to fly (Mar 23), & 4 cancelled flights (United; BA Mar 24; Emirates Mar 25; Etihad Mar 28), after 37 days in South Africa, we were flying home—well, not quite “home”, to Washington D.C. (Along with signing a promissory note to reimburse the government for the cost of flights—about $1500 per person—we were also informed that we each had to secure our own transportation from Dulles straight home to quarantine for 14 days.) And that we could only bring 1 checked bag each. Now, 1 checked bag might be fine for a jaunt, but evacuation?
Immediately after the Evacuation fights were announced, a Whatsapp evacuee group formed. (I didn’t join.) Curtis did, so while I bit#!@$-ed about having to shrink our belongings—along with gifts we’d purchased and biking gear—into 2 bags and lamented having to leave things, he reported how others, too, were having to leave behind bikes, dive equipment, a year’s worth of belongings, etc. Many professed delight and relief to be returning; some, presented with the opportunity to leave, decided to “Give up their space for someone else.”
“Simply put,” said Ramaphosa, “if we end the lockdown too soon, or too abruptly, we risk a massive and uncontrollable resurgence of the disease. We risk reversing the gains that we have made over the last few weeks, and rendering meaningless the great sacrifices that we have all made.”
In our case, with “home,” New York being the epicenter of CoVid-19 horror, the decision to return wasn’t easy. If we could have secured permission to return to Shona & Charles in Port Alfred, Eastern Cape (with no reported cases of CoVid at that time) we most likely would have. And, yes, we did ask—twice! And were politely told, in a strongly worded note, to “adhere to” the SA Government’s Lockdown mandate.
Couple Married 51 Years Dies of CoVid Complications within 6 Minutes of Each Other. Their son, Buddy recorded this message.
Gate 1 wasn’t difficult to locate, the U.S. Consulate flags were flying and the check-in line already stretched down the block. We pulled our bags in a socially-acceptable meter behind the others—gave an embassy rep our names, replaced our no-sew t-shirt masks with official masks she handed us and waited. An Embassy Rep announced that initial screening was delayed because a British fight of evacuees, scheduled to depart before us, wasn’t quite through the screening.
Near the front of the line a camera crew was making a huge fuss over a cluster of 30 somethings. Under the guise of snapping a picture/or trip to the porta-potty just opposite, I eased up so I could hear who they were—what made them so special. Turned out the group were off a yacht that had been sailing for about a month when it docked in Cape Town and stuck in Lockdown, riding the tide, trapped on the yacht for the past 2 weeks. As “luxury” as it may have been, apparently, it wasn’t big enough. The embassy guy who told me about it said they’d had a “rough time of it.”
South African Lockdown Extended by Two Weeks
Keep your masks up; one per seat Maam; no touching!
Back in the U. S of A! Waiting for the Shuttle
When we arrived, there was one line at the Assembly Point, but as we watched others pull up, disembark, wave and air-kiss friends & family, another line beside us grew: the youngsters & oldsters line. I didn’t know whether Curtis should be flattered or jilted not to be in that “other line” especially as it began moving way before ours. Surprisingly, at least to us, evacuees were of all ages and types: refinery workers, teachers, families with small children, teens, retirees off cruise ships & tours, one lady and her husband were part of a 150-guest wedding. The lady had been a bridesmaid (she trumpeted loudly enough that we all heard.” Now that’s what I call a long wedding…
Kuddos to the U.S. Embassy evacuation team! The entire process was expertly conducted! Once the line began moving, we were smoothly, politely, cheerfully funneled from desk to desk to medical check area, banded with florescent green bracelets and fed into an waiting area stocked with “donated” sandwiches and boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts, water, sodas, restrooms. From there we were loaded onto buses—were we sat, masked, politely social distant—one person per seat for a last bus tour through Cape Town.
The morning was warm, bright, skies clear and cloudless affording us glorious views of Table Mountain, stands of trees & townships, past our hotel, the restaurant Curtis & I sneaked away to that first night in Cape Town, part of the Argus route—a time when our biggest worry was finishing the ride…
“The State Department said it has helped bring back more than 56,000 Americans who were stranded abroad after airlines canceled international flights and nations shut down airports. The vast majority of Americans returned from Central and South America, with the largest number — 6,800 people — coming back from Peru.”
Cape Town Airport was empty, hushed. People whispered and kept our distances as we wound our way up and around the check-in lines. I must admit finding it surprising. I had expected people to be sharing stories of how they’d spent Lockdown, or how they’d come to be stranded, but no one did. It felt almost as though anyone who said too much would be yanked from the line.
When our turn came to check-in, I thanked the airline rep for coming to work for us. I asked if she had children at home. She said yes. So then I said, does it feel good to be away from them for a few hours. She laughed, said, yes. And asked if we wanted to check another bag. Where was she yesterday when I was repacking. I looked around wondering which of the others in line were the ones who’d had to leave their dive equipment. Hopefully they’ll never find out we could have checked more bags.
Before take off, the U.S. consulate came onboard the flight to make a speech. We all clapped and cheered. We were seated. We were soon to be on our way. We had no complaints… Besides, we’d heard there was wine onboard…
The flight was uneventful. Curtis and I had an extra seat between us, food, movies to watch, and a car reserved in D.C. The flight stopped in Lomé, the capital of Togo in West Africa to refuel. We arrived at Dulles pre-dawn, were herded through passport control and burped out into the empty airport. No banners, no reporters, no confetti or balloons—no coffee. Welcome Back!—no get your behinds home!
Some positive News:
CoVid patients treated with hydroxychloroquine (a malaria medicine) are healing faster. Reported a Senegalese Doctor in Dakar
Number of Stroke calls last week were less than usual (according to doctor at Lenox Hill Hospital in Manhattan.)
Number of people being hospitalized with COVID-19 in New York and California is falling.
Even among regions that have the highest levels of violence outside a war zone, fewer people are being killed and fewer robberies are taking place.
In Chicago, drug arrests have plummeted 42% in the weeks since the city shut down.
Will babies born in winter ‘21 be Gen C?
“Some criminal lawyers say, is that drug dealers have no choice but to wait out the economic slump.”
Socially isolating doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, and the lack of alcohol doesn’t mean we can’t have fun…Jan 2021 Welcome Gen-C! Corona & Covie are on the way!
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Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 14 Lockdown
April 9, 2020-Day 14 of SA Lockdown:
South Africa: 1,749 CoVid cases; 13 deaths (as of 4-8); Durban Hospital Closed Indefinitely Due to CoVid-19 Outbreak
China Lifts 76-Day Lockdown of Wuhan City
As you’re reading this we are probably winging our way from Cape Town to Lome (the capital of Togo) to refuel, then onto Dulles Airport in Washington, DC. The South African U.S. Embassy team came through (even with all my complaining.) They managed to organize flight from three SA cities: CapeTown, Johannesburg & Durban. Another flight from Cape Town back to D.C. is scheduled for Friday. A cursory snoop at the email chain noted 375+ names on the list. I know how many are on the list because once the flights were announced a slew of folks frantically emailed questions—with way too many clicking “reply all.” Several on the list, who’d been keen to leave, now that the flights are set, have backed off. Should I Stay or Should I Go?
Reading the stats does make one pause. Flying from calm into the storm of full-blown CoVid Pandemic seems counter-intuitive. Nevertheless, we packed and flew.
It’s been almost a month since we arrived, since South Africa was CoVid free, since we rode—and finished—the Cape Argus, celebrated the Festival of Charles, spotted zebra, giraffe, bouncing springbok, rhinos, hippos, lions at Shamwari. Fortunately, we can entertain ourselves with virtual Game Drives at Shamwari and you can too.
USA: 404,580 CoVid cases NY: 38, 863 cases; 5,489 deaths—New York Death Toll Swells by 779.
Turn the volume up super loud and you can be That Neighbor! (Keep reading you’ll see what I mean.
We are leaving South Africa with grateful, full hearts, and some sadness. We’re leaving with lighter bags (as, despite being on commercial airlines, came with bag limits) and sadness. It feels more as though we’re moving than returning home. No telling if we’ll ever see Gloria, our now friend and lovely hostess—who cooks a tasty breakfast and crunchies again. And truth is we were really thinking we’d be back in Port Alfred with Shona & Charles, so we didn’t really say a proper goodbye. We’ll miss them, their family and our friends. Leaving with CoVid-19 on the rise is frightening and worrisome
On a brighter note, I had to share this article on coping with noisy neighbors now that so many are working from home. Laughed out loud when I read this line:
"There are two kinds of people: cowards and psychos.”-NYT 4-8-20
Although I didn’t write a Lockdown post yesterday, I was here with a 7-Minute Poetry Challenge.
#134-Zoo Lovers Testify!
After all, it is April, poetry month, and what better time than in the midst of a pandemic for poetry. Click over. Your prize will be pics of our tumbley grandboys dressed as wild animals.
Here’s to Walking on the Wild Side again, soon!
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Life in the Time of CoVid-Day 12 Lockdown
April 7, 2020-Day 12 of SA Lockdown:
Worldwide: 1,348,628 confirmed CoVid-19 cases; 74, 816 deaths.
Italy: Death Rate has risen to 16, 523; China: No New Deaths for the First Time since January.
One day into the 2nd half of the 21-day SA Lockdown and I’ve hit the what now? place with a the dull thud. (Do not bother asking if we have news regarding evacuation; we have heard zip-ziltch-radio silence from our US Ambassador Lana Marks since Sunday.
And on the 12th Day, Kelly woke feeling like a cast member on The Truman Show* or Ground Hog Day. 7:00 am: Alarm goes off; 7:18 am: dress; 7:22 am Yoga; 7:23-8:59 Check Covid-19 News; 9:00 am: Greet Gloria; Another day in LOCKDOWN. (*& spiraled down rabbit holes like this on 20-years after The Truman Show.)
Cut! . . . and ACTION!
South Africa: 1 686, the death toll rising to 12; Nurses have tested positive sparking fears of increased patient transmissions in the country’s hospitals and clinics.
SA Bride & Groom Arrested Over Lockdown Wedding:
“All 50 wedding guests, the pastor who conducted the ceremony, and the newlyweds themselves were promptly arrested and taken to a police station outside Richards Bay.”—BBC News
USA: 367,758 CoVid-19 cases; 10,981 dead; NY: 130,689 cases; 4,758 dead.
Caregivers, facing contamination, coping with infection, illness & death—personal risk—work on…Citizens blow off the pandemic and carry on…& we click away in our walled castle. No wonder I feel like an extra in an outdated movie rerun.
Our daily routine feels like it’s become habit, parts of which—especially the 3-times-daily Huff & Puff & these Fishbowl post chats—I’m feeling good about and hoping to maintain. Then . . . I googled “How Long Does it Take to Form A Habit"?” Psychology Today shut me right down. Habits, Good & Bad, are not created or broken equally. When it comes to forming a bad habit, 2 days is enough:
“Order a doughnut with your coffee on Monday morning and Tuesday morning, and you’ll probably find it very hard to resist ordering a doughnut on Wednesday.”
Making a good habit, however, takes around 66 days. 66! Please don’t stretch Lockdown to 66 days!
As for Breaking Bad? How many days do you think it takes: 3, 21, 30, 90, 120?
Is Binge Watching Kruger Safari a Good or Bad Habit?
According to my go-tos at curejoy.com it takes between 18 to 254 days to break a bad habit. So maybe and maybe…
Now, in the 2nd half of the 21-day SA Lockdown, the question is, what happens next? Where’s CoVid going to hit and when? Here’s the word from SA Officials:
If you live in an urban area where local health officials initiated early social-distancing orders, the peak of new cases could hit later this month. If you live in a rural area, the coronavirus spread will take longer and stretch limited hospital resources thin.
If, like me, during Life in the Time of CoVid, you are craving Some Good News, check out John Krasinski’s SGN:
Here & below is the link to SGN Episode #2. Ignore the ads—just click skip—and be sure to watch all the way to the dad using a leafblower to push his tot on a swing…and then….wait until you want the…well, watch for yourself!It made me smile, tear up, laugh aloud, share—SGN!