We were scheduled to leave on a trip to the west coast this Sunday. It has, of course, been postponed, or possibly canceled. For months, we have planned and plotted our itinerary, picturing ourselves at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, followed by a few days in the French Quarter. Then on to San Antonio, where we would enjoy the Riverwalk and explore the Alamo.
We are, however, having a new kind of adventure: lockdown. Can we survive together for god knows how long in our condo together with no visitors or parties or trips to Buckalews or shopping expeditions? Will we hate each other by the end of one week or two? Or will we be like a sitcom couple, sweetly playing board games and sipping iced tea? A sort of 21st century Ozzie & Harriet? I could get Joe a cardigan. Or was that Mr. Rodgers?
In order to avoid becoming complete coach potatoes, I have set out a list of tasks to accomplish during our enforced togetherness. Admittedly, these tasks include many things that we have both avoided like the plague in the past, like clearing out the garage, but, perhaps foolheartedly, I am optimistic; looking forward to that wonderful sense of accomplishment I will feel when we actually have a tidy garage. I have resolved that this time will be different from when I broke my foot and instead of sorting through boxes of papers I binge watched Netflix. (When I broke my wrist I watched 8 years of Lost; pneumonia: 7 years of Pretty Little Liars) of course in those instances, I was truly incapacitated, although I have anal friends who would have managed to accomplish something during their invalid time.
We are in Day 3 of Lockdown. We have walked every day. I have sorted papers. We also have started happy hour early and are getting our money's worth from Netflix and HBO. I can only watch so many updates on the coronavirus without wanting to tear out my hair. We wish to remain calm; serenely awaiting our fate. Will we eventually get to California? Stay tuned. The blog is up!
We are, however, having a new kind of adventure: lockdown. Can we survive together for god knows how long in our condo together with no visitors or parties or trips to Buckalews or shopping expeditions? Will we hate each other by the end of one week or two? Or will we be like a sitcom couple, sweetly playing board games and sipping iced tea? A sort of 21st century Ozzie & Harriet? I could get Joe a cardigan. Or was that Mr. Rodgers?
In order to avoid becoming complete coach potatoes, I have set out a list of tasks to accomplish during our enforced togetherness. Admittedly, these tasks include many things that we have both avoided like the plague in the past, like clearing out the garage, but, perhaps foolheartedly, I am optimistic; looking forward to that wonderful sense of accomplishment I will feel when we actually have a tidy garage. I have resolved that this time will be different from when I broke my foot and instead of sorting through boxes of papers I binge watched Netflix. (When I broke my wrist I watched 8 years of Lost; pneumonia: 7 years of Pretty Little Liars) of course in those instances, I was truly incapacitated, although I have anal friends who would have managed to accomplish something during their invalid time.
We are in Day 3 of Lockdown. We have walked every day. I have sorted papers. We also have started happy hour early and are getting our money's worth from Netflix and HBO. I can only watch so many updates on the coronavirus without wanting to tear out my hair. We wish to remain calm; serenely awaiting our fate. Will we eventually get to California? Stay tuned. The blog is up!
APRIL 15 2020
Day 31 of Lockdown
We are still speaking and actually getting along pretty well. Our ambitious plans to accomplish all kinds of projects have not happened...yet. Still hoping we may work up the energy. Our excuse for not cleaning out the garage is that is too cold or too rainy or too windy, or all three. Spring on LBI is not nice weather wise, as it tends to be cold and very windy. We have, however, kept our pledge to walk every day, which has been helped by our decision to foster a small dog. Keke is an 8 year old little toy poodle who had been badly neglected and came into the shelter with matted, filthy fur, unspayed, several small tumors, a hernia and ear infections. Plus fleas. She also needs dental work, and actually has buck teeth. The shelter had her treated for the fleas, groomed, and took her to the vet, who treated the ear infections. The vet, however, cannot do surgery on her that is not emergency or essential until our crisis is over. Therefore, we can only foster, not adopt. When everything opens up, she will have her surgery and then we will permanently adopt her.
A word about her name: When I was a very small child, my grandmother had a little cairn named Cricket. They lived with us and I apparently could not quite manage "Cricket" so I said "Keke." I thought that since the first dog I lived with was called Keke, perhaps our final dog should have the same name. Keke is loving in spite of her history of neglect and follows me around. She is a lap dog, which is perfect for me. We felt a large dog would be too much for us, plus we do not have a fenced yard, or actually any yard at all. Keke is perfect!
Day 31 of Lockdown
We are still speaking and actually getting along pretty well. Our ambitious plans to accomplish all kinds of projects have not happened...yet. Still hoping we may work up the energy. Our excuse for not cleaning out the garage is that is too cold or too rainy or too windy, or all three. Spring on LBI is not nice weather wise, as it tends to be cold and very windy. We have, however, kept our pledge to walk every day, which has been helped by our decision to foster a small dog. Keke is an 8 year old little toy poodle who had been badly neglected and came into the shelter with matted, filthy fur, unspayed, several small tumors, a hernia and ear infections. Plus fleas. She also needs dental work, and actually has buck teeth. The shelter had her treated for the fleas, groomed, and took her to the vet, who treated the ear infections. The vet, however, cannot do surgery on her that is not emergency or essential until our crisis is over. Therefore, we can only foster, not adopt. When everything opens up, she will have her surgery and then we will permanently adopt her.
A word about her name: When I was a very small child, my grandmother had a little cairn named Cricket. They lived with us and I apparently could not quite manage "Cricket" so I said "Keke." I thought that since the first dog I lived with was called Keke, perhaps our final dog should have the same name. Keke is loving in spite of her history of neglect and follows me around. She is a lap dog, which is perfect for me. We felt a large dog would be too much for us, plus we do not have a fenced yard, or actually any yard at all. Keke is perfect!