Another hair story. Keep in mind, I am sheltered-in-place and it gives me little new information to focus on. I was talking to Marjie and she said, “Maybe they will ask to interview us.” I don’t know what the subject was, but my response was, “Not until I get a haircut.”

Once we are liberated, the lines at the hair salons that do not take appointments will outdo Costco during the pandemic.

Because of the virus, I have not had my hair cut for 11 weeks. I have not had highlights done. I was talking to my kids about it yesterday and each one had the same response. They heard me say I had highlights but never noticed them. Ellen said, “I see you as a blonde.” I asked her if she sees roots, and, if so, are they gray? She assured me I am a blonde still.

Time for lighter highlights.

My CD player broke.  I have lots of CDs.  I chose not to digress to address how I still choose to listen to music.  I priced buying a new one, but it did not feel like a priority.  I was talking to Carrie and she asked me why I don’t use my DVD player.  I failed to see the relationship of my television to my music until she explained it to me.  I tried it, and, voila, I had my music back.  I told Erik about it and he said he did not know about that technique.

I knew something technological ahead of my son!

I walk a mile every morning since the gym closed for the pandemic.  I have three routes.  This morning I was aware it had rained during the night.  I chose to journey out knowing there was likely still a drizzle.  I put on my raincoat.  There was a mist, so I kept my hood up.  About 15 minutes into the walk, I came upon a puddle on the sidewalk.  I chose not to resist.  I jumped in.

A nice interruption to the ritual walk and the ongoing adulthood.

I missed seeing my friends.  As a group, we had last gotten together in February.  It was now May.  I invited everyone over to sit apart in my backyard and drink wine.  I chose to serve an appetizer that I could prepare and plate for each person so that we did not need to touch someone else’s food.  Respect for sheltering-in-place.  And so we talked, and so we caught up, and so we laughed.  Most importantly, we saw each other in person.

Fulfilling.

This was a common complaint during the stay-at-home arrangement.  First people cleaned.  Then they made new recipes.  Then they went through closets and drawers and discarded items.  It is anticipated there will be a plethora of donations after the pandemic as no places are currently open to accept or pick up items.  One woman disclosed she was awakened by what she thought was an earthquake, It was not.  She then thought it might have been a dream.  She asked me what it could mean to have such a dream.  I suggested she let it go unless she did not know what to do with her boredom.

Choices.

The gym is closed.  I started walking every day.  Every day, you say.  That suggests I am routinized.  Correct.  However, I do have three different routes.  And so, each day, at about 7:30 AM, I am on the road.  Each route is about a mile and takes 20 minutes.  I sometimes see a dog and walker.  Sometimes a jogger.  Sometimes a landscaper.  We each respect the 6 foot separation, often meaning someone walks out into the street. I have found three library boxes.  One day I brought gloves and found two books.  Sometimes I call Carrie or Debbie and talk while I walk.

Keeping healthy.

When the family came over for lunch, I made an ice cream pie.  I told Isaac and Ari that Julie was disappointed she would not be here because that is her favorite dessert.  I asked them what Julie decided to prepare that day for herself since she could not join us.  They both said “Cookie dough.”  Note, not cookies.

We all know her.

Because of the virus, we were still sheltered.  Erik said his family wanted to come over to my house that day.  I suggested they come for lunch and we would eat outside to maintain distance.  He commented that on Mother’s Day I was not supposed to prepare the lunch.  I responded, “But because it’s Mother’s Day, I should.”

I continue to try to guilt.

My next-door neighbor often plays music.  He sometimes has his front door open and it comes from inside.  Sometimes it is playing on his front porch.  At times he plays the guitar on the front porch and sings.  At times he is accompanied by friends.  I have listened to it for eight years, late at night and early in the morning.  It has not been a problem.  Lately, as we are sequestered in our homes, it has been a lovely diversion.

Keep it up.