At Home: Day 35
Yum. So much better with potatoes.
Today, while I was scraping chopped onion into the Crock-Pot for corn chowder and glancing at the recipe to the next step, I saw “potato.” I am notorious for forgetting one crucial ingredient when planning meals. Usually, if I am as far along as I was today when realizing I don’t have something, I run out to the corner store. Even better, I change course before I start. But today, the soup was well on its way. And I will not consider running out to the corner store right now. But corn chowder without potatoes is merely corn soup. So I reached out to my neighbors. I sent a virtual message across the actual fence.
Last month, on the very day this all began, Day 0 that would be, I was arriving home from work and this neighbor came over to check in. We have been neighbors for nearly 15 years. It’s weird to put a time stamp on it. Between us we have five kids. When I went to the hospital with my youngest, they came to stay with the kids until my family could get here. We have celebrated kids’ birthdays, had picnics in the yard, carpooled. Our kids are older now but still friendly. And when I knew I needed potatoes, I thought of that driveway conversation five weeks ago. “If you need anything,” he said, “We’re here.” And so, potato SOS.
In mere minutes, four lovely soup potatoes were delivered to my back deck. I left a small jar of mustard in thanks. I make mustard during the holidays to give as gifts. I often have a few extras hanging around. I was so happy to exchange spicy mustard for a crucial chowder ingredient. Though it was very strange to knock on the window and give a thumbs up, wave and yell “thanks” through the glass instead of stepping through the door to accept the food and chat.
The chowder was delicious. I made biscuits to go with it.
Baking powder biscuits. They were delicious. They are gone.
I had such a hard time focusing today. I had plenty of work to do, and I slogged through it, feeling distracted and inefficient and itchy. I had trouble sitting still and was so impatient. I just wanted the work day to be over, so that I wouldn’t have to sit in front of my huge computer screen at my work station and focus so hard. I need an acute attention to detail during this time in the work, when we are trying to get the magazine finalized, out the door. It’s nerve wracking in a normal cycle. But in the current state of the world and my very tired and ever-thinking brain, and on a Friday afternoon, I could barely function. I opted for no yoga at lunch, ironically, planning instead to go for a walk. My walk was lovely. I did the usual 4.5 miles. But I probably should have done yoga, too.
Not long before I left for my walk we heard from another neighbor, the one who lives in the house on the other side of ours. She needed a cinnamon stick for a stew. I have cinnamon sticks! J delivered two to her back porch. Such simple gestures. We’ve reached out to each other for ingredients before. Sugar. Cumin. Maybe eggs? But now it feels more crucial. More human. Less matter of fact.
I hope her stew was as good as our chowder.
It’s Friday. The news is not good.
Cases in Massachusetts:
More than 34,000, an increase of more than 2,200 since yesterday.
Deaths: 1,404
Cases in the U.S.:
Almost 710,000
Deaths: 37,154
Nearly 7,000 deaths in the U.S. have been nursing home residents or staff.
Florida is reopening some of its beaches. Local restaurants are starting to talk about how they will reopen with fewer tables and other physical distancing measures. I would not go to a beach now. Nor would I go to a restaurant. At some point I know I need to let go of some control. But I won’t do so if it puts my family at risk. I want restaurants to survive. But I will not eat out until I feel the risk of contracting this virus has been brought under control.
Hat tip to a lovely friend for sharing an NPR article on Facebook that stayed with me, part of which said: “Any government that wants to start lifting restrictions, said the director-general of the WHO, must first meet six conditions:
1. Disease transmission is under control
2. Health systems are able to "detect, test, isolate and treat every case and trace every contact"
3. Hot spot risks are minimized in vulnerable places, such as nursing homes
4. Schools, workplaces and other essential places have established preventive measures
5. The risk of importing new cases "can be managed"
6. Communities are fully educated, engaged and empowered to live under a new normal.”
Folks, listen up: WE ARE NOT EVEN CLOSE.
After dinner I got my sewing machine out of the closet and searched the art bins upstairs for elastic. In my mind we have yards of it. I found a small bundle. It felt like such a score, to see it lying there in the bottom of a bin full of other miscellaneous materials — felt, pom poms, pipe cleaners, beads. We have shelves and shelves of art materials. We always have, ever since GG gave the kids a huge bin when they were toddlers. That bin was replenished and overflowed more than once before we devoted a floor-to-ceiling shelf to all matter of paint, paper, clay, crayons, needles, stencils, glue guns, and jars and jars of marker tops, corks, stickers, beads, and other collected miscellany. What a treasure to find elastic that I plan to use tomorrow to make fabric face masks. I have an N95 one that I can wear when grocery shopping. But I want a cloth one for when I’m just out walking. And Sarah needs one for when she needs to leave the house occasionally. And it’s clear we are going to need these for a while, so I decided tomorrow is the day. It is supposed to snow overnight and be messy during the morning. A good day to make banana bread with the six rotting bananas and set up a sewing station at the table. Plus, I could use some productivity that extends beyond getting laundry done every now and then.
Stay safe, everyone.