Friday, April 17, 2020

The Quarantine Chronicles, Part III

Last week, I ended my narrative with a photo of me and my "social distancing" mask, one made by my creative wife. Here we are, nearing the end of week three of April, and the masks have become "a thing." The governor has "strongly recommended" that we wear them anytime we go out in public, but especially when we are going where we will encounter others. Many stores that are still able to be open will not let you inside unless you are wearing one. I had to pick up something at the auto parts store today, and they were one of those "Wear your mask or don't come in" places. Like many have joked, if I were to enter Autozone during any "season" other than Coronavirus Spring of 2020 wearing a mask, I'm sure they'd set off some kind of alarm and/or phone 911.

While it really is NO joking matter to follow these important social-distancing and masking guidelines to try to keep us all safe and well, there are a few humorous things about it. Some people are wearing clever masks that make them look like dogs or cats. Others are wearing homemade masks with bright colors, Scottish tartans, or that look like underwear. To each his/her own, I guess. And, unless you are in the medical or dental field and wear these things all of the time, there is an "art" to talking with a mask covering your nose and mouth, and I was never very good at art. Listening to two people trying to carry on a conversation--a loud conversation because they are standing at least six feet apart--and through masks sounds a bit like the adults talking in those cartoon Peanuts specials: Wah-wah-wah-WAH-wah... And for those of us who have reverted to wearing spectacles, facial masks provide yet another challenge. Fogging lenses make navigating difficult, and I'd hate to run into anyone, for fear of being an inadvertent disease-spreader, or at least causing that fear in someone. Incidentally, one of my Facebook friends suggested rubbing mild soap or shaving cream on my glasses and then gently wiping them off. I guess the residual surfactant is supposed to keep one's specs from fogging up. Haven't tried it yet, but if I keep bumping into things while masked, I might have to.


Here's the next thing. My hair is about as long as it's been in many a year. Since I can't cut my own hair, and Dara eschews the thought of barbering curly locks, it's just going to grow. And I've given up on "styling" it, if that is what one would call it. I figured I'd be going nuts by now with it, but it's not too bad. I'm saving a lot of time fighting it with a brush and a comb, and the few times I've been able to take a top-down run in the Miata, it feels pretty good, having the wind rushing through this head of weeds. I've noticed, though, that when I walk out onto the deck on a nice day, the Robins are eyeing me. "Hey Barb, looky there--great NEST material!" If you've never been given "the eye" by a creature capable of flight, and with a sharp beak, believe me, it's a little disconcerting. Dara's hair is getting longer, and it looks great. Of course, she hates it. She's one of those practical beauties, much preferring simplicity over style, but I'm kind of enjoying it. Still, I'm guessing we will join 300 million other Americans making a beeline for the hair stylists when the "all clear" is sounded. I go to a cheap place because Dara doesn't. They will not be happy seeing me coming, as they don't charge by the pound.

Eating. We've already eaten more meals at home, around our own table, than we have in probably two decades. With our schedules, and living 16 miles away from St. Paul's, we have most of our meals in public eateries. I actually think we are eating more healthy meals, and I know that they aren't as loaded with sodium as commercial offerings are. I know I'm not eating as much. Theoretically, that means I should lose some weight, but I'm not holding my breath (except when wearing that stupid mask). I also find that my evening snacking has ratcheted back as well. Typically, after a long day at the church, including an evening meeting or two, I come home and hit the snack bin. But working from home, there is no "occasion" to mark with an evening snack, or at least not as robust a snack. How about you? Are you one of the "eating more sensibly" folk? Or the "God, please stop me from grazing" types? And speaking of healthy eating, we're encouraging our members to consider growing "Victory Gardens" to both help feed their families with veggies, fresh herbs, and such, as well as possibly sharing excess harvest with the food pantry at North Hills Community Outreach. We're tapping some of the expertise of our resident Master Gardener to help us provide resources and information to grow a successful garden. I'm great at growing Zucchini. I hate Zucchini. 

My "office" at home is the finished room behind the garage of our townhouse. It was meant to be a family room, but since our place is built into the earth in the back, there are no windows in this room. It's cozy, easy to keep warm, has a tempting 40 inch TV on the wall, and a comfy Laz-E-Boy chair, but it isolates one from knowing what is happening outside. So I'm kind of quarantined in a quarantined room, if you will. It is quiet, though, and sitting in front of my 27 inch Mac gives me window enough to the tools and information I need to write articles, sermons, and drivel like this blog. When, after a full day of Zoom or GoToMeeting meetings, a few dozen pages of writing or answering emails, I venture back to the civilization of the main floor, I feel a bit like Punxsutawney Phil being dragged out by one of those Groundhog Club "gomers." At least we have windows up there.

So how is it with your soul? This is a question John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, liked to ask his friends. How is this pandemic affecting your relationship with God? Are you feeling blessed to be still in the "healthy" column? Or angry at God for "allowing" something like this to happen? Are you motivated to pray for those who have either lost loved ones to COVID-19, for those who are at risk, and for the brave folk who are treating and caring for infected individuals in our medical facilities, be they hospitals, ambulances, or tents? I guess it really doesn't take much "motivation" to pray for all of these folk, does it? Just a little shot of genuine Christian love and compassion will do the trick. The anger? That, too, is OK. I would worry about anyone who isn't a bit angry and disillusioned over this scenario. None of us has ever seen anything like this, unless you happen to be a medical professional who offered your services in Africa during the Ebola epidemic. We believe in a God who is always with us, but who gives us freedom to live in a less than perfect world, and calls us to work for its perfection by coming together, crossing aisles, national boundaries, and personal differences to do so. That's a tall order. Are we up to it? With the help of God, we are, I believe.

What are you thankful for? The loved ones around us, for sure. I'm thankful that when I do have to go out in public, I see most folk wearing protective masks, trying diligently to obey social distancing guidelines, and still being just nice people about it. Have you noticed that you can tell when a person is smiling at you, even when they are wearing a mask? I think it's the eyes. Eyes smile. When our mouthes are not obscured, we don't normally notice that. But eyes smile. That's a wonder, isn't it?

Well, Dear Ones, it's a Friday night as I write this, and Friday nights are usually special in the Sterling household, even though during this quarantine I need a calendar to KNOW it's Friday. I'm going for a snack. I wonder if we have any Zucchini? UH oh, that's not a good sign--better go check my temperature first...stay WELL, stay SAFE, Yinz. Shalom!

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