COV25D-19

I took yesterday off from blogging about this mess. And today I was very engaged with lots of work tasks and lots of meetings. I've only just now finished things up enough to even think if there is anything worth writing about. 

And right now? No, not really.

Once Lynda got done working, she and the girls spent the last half-hour or so playing with the mother cat and her kittens. The kittens, by the way are maybe two weeks old? Still quite small and barely moving much on their own. Only yesterday did they start venturing out of the crate and trying to explore--and that is still pretty occasional. The mother cat nurses them pretty well and seems to like hiding them (when they aren't in the crate) alongside the unfinished wall of the basement where I propped up two old wall-sized mirrors. It gives a narrow channel of tight space that I assume she finds comforting. But who knows? Maybe she is trying to get rid of them. Not all animals are good parents, I guess. But Lynda, Sarah, Grace, and Hannah won't let anything bad happen to these kittens. They will intervene whatever the price to be paid

Maybe it is my cold, black heart, my black-painted fingernails, or maybe it is the fact that I spent several days last week reading manuscript about Social Darwinism, twisted evolutionary theories of nineteenth-century urban America . . . but I think they intervene too much. They are letting these kittens imprint on them and I'll never be able to get rid of them when this foster situation "comes to an end." I knew the second I let these animals into the house I was doomed.

Oh well. I guess I'd better create some PowerPoint presentations about the Prime Directive, so the rest of my family will gain a better understanding of when it is appropriate to intervene in the lives of lesser species.

COV23D-19

Today was better because I spent good portions of it outside. 

This morning Lynda and I cleared out the side area of the yard that has been blocked off for years by a simple picket fence (which we removed last week). Now that the fence is gone, we had to clear out the accumulated leaves and sticks and detritus that gets wind-blown there every season. And I also cut down lots of little sucker trees and trash stumps and generally got the area ready for something sometime in the future. Maybe it will just be grass. Maybe we'll plant some small shrubs there to be a different kind of blocking. Or maybe just put in some flowers. Whatever it ends up being it will be more intentional and hopefully neater. (I bet our neighbors are happy to see us doing something nicer over there.)

Once that was done, I spent time reading on the front porch. And after dinner was finished just a bit ago, I came back out to type this up. The trees are blooming, the flowers are out, and families are taking advantage of the nice weather and walking up and down the street--like they've done in the past* and such that you might momentarily forget that we are still living through a very odd time of isolation and worry. But it didn't really feel like that today. It just felt like a nice Saturday in Springtime. I hope I have more days like this to come. And I hope that our country can enter into its own Springtime soon.

*The only oddity of families out and about today was that kids were walking up and down through the middle of the street with no concern of cars driving. That is a bit on the unusual side. But if you don't think too much about why that is, you can go on telling yourself that everything is normal.

COV22D-19

  I don't have anything illuminating to say today. I guess I could wait until this evening and see if anything interesting happens . . . but really what are the chances of that? I can't go farther than my driveway, so what exactly might happen? Sure, the Internet is full of stuff. But I can't be sitting and watching it all day. I can't dream and imagine. I've got actual work to do. (Thank God that I do, to be sure.) I can't go down into the basement because it currently smells of cat food and litter box.

So I'll likely sit at the dining room table, staring at my laptop screen. Flipping between programs. Thinking, planning. Trying to be as productive as possible. Getting up and stretching every who knows how many minutes. Seeing the sunlight creep across my table and into the corner of my eyes. Putting on headphones and taking them off. Wanting ANYTHING to be different.

But it's not different. It's week three and moving into week four. It's almost Holy Week. But there is no church to attend. There are no Livestream Eucharists to watch. There IS daily Morning Prayer to participate in (and thank you ASEC for that). It's strange. It's disheartening. But it is reality. 

I guess I need to fight through today's disappointment and try to find a positive. It's too early and my coffee cup is too full for me to be thinking straight yet. I can't know what today will bring. Maybe it will be unexpectedly good. It is up to me to make it so.

COV21D-19

I must really, really be getting nuts because of this stay-at-home quarantine nonsense. Because I can't believe what I agreed to yesterday.

We're fostering a kitten.

And not just a kitten. It seems that we agreed to foster a mother cat and several kittens: four kittens, apparently. When this was first brought to my attention, I was only told about one kitten. But I guess they are so small, they can't be separated. Or whatever.

So, after years--literal YEARS--of not letting the kids get pets, we are getting about ten years of pets in one day. I KNOW I'm going to simultaneously regret this and enjoy it. But right now I can only experience the regret. 

And you know what is even better? The cat family is going to be set up in the basement--the very part of the house that I worked hard to make nice and livable for Lynda to work in two weeks ago. I know Lynda and the girls are moving stuff around down there and getting an area set up for the cats to stay in. And part of me just doesn't want to find out what is happening and how my nice space is being completely rearranged.

Of course, up until now, NO ONE wanted to go down in the basement for any reason. And just as soon as I set it up in a semi-decent fashion. (And really it's NOT so great anyway. I just rearranged some furniture and hung a few pictures on the walls to make it seem more human.) But anyway, it's going to become a cat den now. And who knows for how long?

This is only a foster situation. I am NOT intending for these cats to be here long term. But I'm sure that is probably wishful thinking on my part. I guess we'll see what happens.

But the shelter-in-place situation has just been cranked up to a whole new level here in my house. We'll see who survives it best NOW. I just know that the kids have no more reason to complain about being bored.

COV20D-19

(Aww nuts. My numbers are out of balance again--and the imbalance is just gonna get worse.)

During a brief breakfast discussion this morning, I had a great idea . . . a LOST themed marching band halftime show!

Think of it:

• The trombone part would be insane. (Those of you who have seen the show know what I'm talking about.)
• The backdrop art could either be a tropic island or just a banner showing the Numbers
• The middle, slow-it-down ballad song of the halftime show would be my absolute favorite piece of LOST-related music: Michael Giacchino's "Life & Death" 

• Which lucky band member gets to play Desmond? How are you going to hide him in a hatch for the first three minutes of the show?
• The guard could all be dressed in Dharma Initiative jumpsuits
• The flags would all show the Swan logo
• The first sound of the show could be a pre-recorded Previously on LOST . . .

What ideas do you have about a LOST-themed show? How would you do it?