My husband doesn’t have much real estate behind his ears. As a front line worker, but not in direct patient contact, my husband still has to wear a mask at his place of employment. Many of the masks are too small and pull down his ears, with a Dumbo effect. When he was able to secure some homemade ones with loops behind the ear, the loops were often too thick and pulled his ears down, as there wasn’t enough “back of ear” to support it. He’s taken to ordering some on Etsy and is trying to rehab the ones gifted to him with a sewing kit. I never really thought about the back of my husband’s ears, but it’s a conversational piece now.
Quarantine Recipesmeans nothing goes to waste. Simple syrup and moonshine. Jasmine rice with sauteed onions and cheddar cheese. Eating a bunch of small random things in the fridge as a meal (Tonight was a hotdog, half a can of tomato soup, crackers with peanut butter and jelly, and cheese slices, followed by fresh strawberries for dessert) – I’m trying to save the actual meals I made for the work week. We are freezing bread and milk and stocking up on rice and other long term stable foods. “How much butter did this take?” my husband asks as he eats a homemade meat pie I made from scratch – both the crust and filling. “A cup of butter, two sticks.” “Oh my God Simonne, we can’t go through butter like that.” Needless to say, I’ll be holding back on the cookies and pastries. We worry that supply chains with fresh food might become a luxury instead of a staple if things really get off the rails, so we’re trying to use less of everything and freeze as much as we can. It’s our way of being proactive instead of reactive, that’s all.
I’ve got friends in old places. I’ve managed to make connections with my past. A boyfriend from high school contacted me, but it was really a pitch for a business venture, which I am wholly unequipped to do. He was not interested in my technical writing expertise. I burst out laughing when he wrote I would be a great pick for his sales department because of my extroverted nature. Hello? INFJ here and I’m awkward as…well, you know. I suddenly remembered why our relationship never worked. I reconnected with a friend who was a collegemate of mine. I’ve rediscovered her blog and have thoroughly enjoyed our correspondence. A pen pal I had in middle and high school got back in touch with me and we hope to FaceTime soon!
I can’t do church online. I got called out for it, but I cannot bring myself to remote into a worship service via my internet connection. The whole thing is unappealing to me. My church did a BYOBAGJ (Bring Your Own Bread and Grape Juice) to a Zoom session during Holy Week and I could not. It felt so inauthentic. I also hesitated to do a Zoom bible study, but now I’m rethinking that, simply because I have no contact outside of my Pray As You Go App – which is about as far as I will go with the online stuff.
I’m not crocheting much. Back in the pre-pandemic days of yore, if I was sitting, I was crocheting. I bought more yarn, thinking I would turn out an Afghan a week, yet I’ve barely picked up my hook. With the stress of everything, I am perfectly content to just sit. And be.
Life isn’t all that different. If you take away the fact beaches are closed, no more causal grocery trips, no church, and nothing is open, my life is about the same. I go to work. I come home. I putz in the garden. I run. I write. I watch an old German soap opera. Getting together with friends is a Herculean effort that requires much advanced planning in normal times – and now, I’m not going anywhere near them in fear I’m an asymptotic carrier, as I am still working in an office and seeing patients. I’ve basically been quarantining for years. I don’t mind.