Twenty days of school left; 40 days of confinement in the rear view. It has been one heck of a bizarre ride this year, and from what I’m hearing from school and government officials, there’s no guarantee that it’ll abruptly end once summer is over.

The uncertainty shouldn’t really bother me, as I’m becoming somewhat OK with the almost-constant solitude (well, there’s my precious Remy, and we’ve had some nice conversations). And my sons check on me regularly by phone and the occasional drop-by, while sister Mavis stops in regularly, en route to taking herself and Remy to the dog park (her place of peace and solitude, as she does not live alone), so it’s not like I’m completely cut off, which is super nice.

The absolute worst part is not seeing the Js and A’s. **stake through the heart**

So the world turns and the lesson plans still get written and the housework still (mostly) gets done. I’m one of the extremely fortunate ones, in that my work — and, therefore, my pay — can continue from home. I think about and hurt for those who aren’t as lucky.

There’s a meme floating around social media that says something like, “They started high-stakes testing because they thought teachers didn’t want to work. Now all the testing has been canceled, and teachers are working harder than ever. Seems like it wasn’t the teachers after all.”

Well $weetne$$, $ome of u$ have known that $ince 2012. I find I’m putting in the same 12-14-hour days as I do when I’m teaching all day and rehearsing for a show at night, with the obvious exception being that I’m sitting at this box instead of at a piano. What’s changed significantly? I’ve had to switch out my Bitmoji for one with longer hair. hahaha

Speaking of football: Talk is spreading about having to move high school sports around, and indeed, having to think creatively about how to salvage the remainder of upperclassmen’s (and women’s) athletic careers in preparation for any scholarship hopes. And once again, Ohio is leading the nation in the forward-thinking department. I wonder what this will do to my schedule…

Ah, well. We’ll get some shows in there, regardless. I just wish I knew more during this uncertain time. It’s easy to get discouraged.

One bright spot is that since I can’t have daily rehearsals, I’m able to explore some options that I rarely have time for during the regular choir year, like music history, theory, music as a business, important people, composition, music in film, personal musical journeys and the like. It’s been fun — or as much fun as one can have within the confines of their property lines.

Well hasn’t this just been the rambling treatise this morning? I hope you’re all doing great, fiends. I pine for normalcy, but it’s looking like this is it for a while longer. Let’s all stay the course so we can see our grandchildren again. I need more sleepovers!

Hugs

<–  Me, Day 1 of quarantine.

I bought a new vacuum cleaner, and went zizzing all over my house. Ta-daaa! Over the next several days, I turbo-cleaned my kitchen, sorted the recycling, fixed my bike,  and spent countless hours preparing lessons. I even made time to read for pleasure while keeping up to date on every development with regard to COVID-19.

Remy and I took walks whenever weather allowed. <SIDEBAR> We’ve taken three walks through the park, and he’s had not a single meltdown. I’ve been able to talk him down from flipping out each and every time we’ve encountered another human. And we’ve seen the lot, trust me: bikers, walkers, runners, people mowing their lawns, getting in and out of their cars, walking their own dogs, talking on their front porches, playing at the tennis courts…humans in every stage of moving about. How about that!?

There was one time when he tried to reverse course and run the other way, but I talked him out of it while continuing to walk. But no barking, no running around me in circles, no freakouts. That particular behavior was definitely a worry for me. At 65 lbs., boxy and built low to the ground, if he wants to reverse direction and run away, he’s dragging me with him — likely headlong into a swan dive. (Ask me how I know this. ) This dog is seven years old, and completely hard-wired to act like he’s acted since puppyhood, when he was obviously unsocialized at the very least. </SIDEBAR>

So, I ordered my groceries online for the first time. I’m picking them up tonight at Buehler’s, here in Ashland, after placing the order two days ago. Since then, of course, I’ve thought of eight more things I forgot to add, but adding them now would mean another wait…maybe I’ll try another place. I’m not accustomed to thinking ahead like this. *bonking self repeatedly on forehead* Gotta plan better.

Fast-forward to Day 15. I look like this. –>

What the world? You’d think that since I’m home nearly 24/7, the place would be gleaming and I’d have arranged all that great multi-window “virtual choir” music to put online with my singers looking super-stylish, doing a captivating, life-changing a cappella tune on their own…

Yeahno.

I’m the rat on the right.

Totally cool event here, though: I actually saw my sons, in person, this week! Only for a moment, and from a safe social distance, but I clapped eyes on them. That brightened my little corner.

I hope your corner is bright today, fiends. Since it’s supposed to rain for the next 22 years, I will tackle the upstairs bathroom and bedrooms. With my new vacuum cleaner.

Much love.

Fiends: I’m test-driving a new comment plug-in. Could you give it a go if you have something to say today? Thanks, and sorry for the problems of late…

The first eight went by pretty quickly, filled with lesson planning, house cleaning, dealing with contract negotiations issues, laughing on text and Facebook with family and friends, catching up on some TV shows, playing with Remy, missing my grandsons, watching the daily press conferences by the governor, cooking, and reading. Lots and lots and lots of reading — mostly about COVID-19.

I keep the coronavirus live updates page on CNN running 24/7 on my browser; it’s become somewhat of an obsession. If I see a number next to the tab, I know there’s a new story to read. Unlike some of my friends, I never tire of reading about this crisis. It doesn’t wear me down at all. Rather, with each story, I’m re-energized to keep doing my part, and to encourage others to do theirs (don’t get me started).

FYI — I’m calm, and feeling fine; no symptoms of any kind. I’m confident that so far, I’m dancing out of the way of this thing.

The downside, besides no contact with my sons and grandsons? I can’t ride my new bike. Devin, one of my students (and a 2020 graduating senior for whom I’m heartbroken), came over and put it together for me, for which I’m eternally grateful. Since that day, I’ve just looked at it. I got on it once and tiptoed around the garage floor on it, but it’s been either raining or cold (or raining and cold) almost every day since, so no ridey-ridey. Blah.

You mean you’re not leaving?

Remy and I have had a great time bonding through this. I think he can’t believe I’m actually not walking out the door every morning. His routine has been disrupted, but I’m pretty sure he likes it. It’s worked out well, since my sons aren’t visiting, and sister Mavis (his adored caregiver while I’m at work) is unfortunately laid up in the hospital with pneumonia right now.

Into the great wide open (of the park)

After dinner last night, we ventured to the park for a walk in the windy, 29-degree temps. It felt more like -29, but he loved it. Wore him out and paralyzed my face. I’m not sure what the weather calls for today, but I think we’ll give it another go this afternoon. It’s good for both of us to get out.

I can’t remember a time when I was alone for this long. Isn’t that funny? Even when I’m traveling solo, there’s always company of some kind, on a train or plane, or in a taxi or bus or restaurant. I don’t mind it, but it does highlight the Thriller’s absence in a big way. What I wouldn’t give to be kicking his butt in Scrabble right now (after which he’d kick mine in chess).

I hope you’re all handling things as well as you can, and that everyone in your world is healthy and safe. Let’s try to keep it that way!

Much love.

He cares not what your opinion be. He scoffs at your wrong-headed “it’s just the flu, people!” vociferations. He pooh-poohs your complaints about how this is going to hurt the economy and cause horrible hardships to families.

That’s the way of a soul-crushing epidemic, fiends. It’s a never-ending, relentless assault on everything we take for granted: mobility, choice, certainty, even hope. It’s a wake-up call of the worst order. So…time to wake up. I implore you to consider the following:

1. Getting mad at state governments closing stuff down is pointless and a waste of your energy.  I live in Ohio, where the governor, absent any cogent leadership from Washington, took matters into his own hands and started issuing shutdown orders after consulting with doctors and public health experts. He took no prisoners; thousands of people’s livelihoods were instantly affected — especially those in the service industry. But what do you do when your job is to serve the greater good? You shut it all down, and then address how you’re going to help people survive.
2. It’s cliché, but true: Science doesn’t care what you believe. Our opinions, as our days, are as grass. For many, our faith keeps us going, but science rages on in the lane beside us. And keeps up. Don’t ignore what the CDC says because you think you know better.
3. Fuh cripesake, think of other people. I know people who are continuing to party like it’s 1999, because they’re A) unafraid, B) not at high risk, and C) staying away from old and sick people, so it’s fine. I submit that all three of those reasons are foolish and dangerous. We’ve all seen the infection models and medical projections. Go home and stay home, unless you have to be at work, in which case your employer should be allowing you to take maximum precautions for your own protection, and that of others.

I feel terrible for my seniors at school. We have to come up with an idea whereby prom and graduation can still happen. I just don’t have any ideas myself yet. But I will. That, and I’m surrounded by smart people who will come up with something. In the big scheme of life, rescheduling a prom and a graduation ceremony (and my show, oy…) are small things, but they are very real and loom large to every 17- and 18-year-old I know. My shriveled, black heart hurts for them.

So, while our epidemiological Honey Badger don’t care, I am convinced we can get through this crisis together, all doing our part. I’m starting with the attic today, and working my way down, slowly and without much urgency. What all are you doing on this lovely Tunesday? Anything I should know about?

Chipotle is offering free delivery. Hmmm….might think about that for dinner.

Edit: My comment counter seems to be broken. You’ll need to click on the title of each post, then scroll to the end to read or write a comment. I’m on it…