Well, I got one book read!!! Whoo hoo!
Our family has now completed two full weeks of self-quarantine. Except, we (the parents) have left the house 3 times. Twice for groceries and once (with kids in car) just to drive around before NC went on lock down. Now we can't even joy ride.
And you know what? I am OK with that. After all, that is what Quarantine means. NO CONTACT. This whole thing of "Oh, it's ok as long as we are six feet apart, so let's party!" is what is making me crazy.
NO! JUST STAY HOME! The six feet thing is only a recommendation if you HAVE to be out. Yes, I am using capitals because I am YELLING AT YOU PEOPLE!!!!
My father is immunocompromised and 80 years young and very active- a big traveler. He has to stay home. A lady on his street tested positive. My hometown lost a fine man last week to this virus. Everyone knows someone that is affected, and now, at this point, pretty much everyone knows someone who has died from or is seriously ill from this virus, or will do within the next 10-14 days. Because we are not yet at the peak. So, stay home! Save my Daddy!!!!!!
The other thing that is making me crazy is the negativity on social media. (We are not going to talk about how much time I spend looking at all the crazy, that is for another day, but suffice to say that is exactly why I turned it off and came here to my place of comfort.) Stop posting memes that are incendiary. Stop linking iffy stories or horror stories that will make depressed, anxious people even more so, or angry people really bubble up and point all the fingers. Want bad news? Watch the News. Please for the love of sunshine give me something HAPPY!!!! That is what our world needs - happy.
Like the story of Phil. At the University my daughter attends (attended? Online attends???), one student forgot to pack his philodendron plant. Named Philip. After his father, Phil, and his sister, Phyllis. Yes, all were cut from the same plant owned by the student's father from his days at this same University. But poor Philip was left behind. And then the roommate knocked him over and broke his house, er, pot. So Philip's prognosis was not good.
Mom emails housing, and pleads for this admittedly low priority item to be looked into. Lo and behold, we have a new tradition, as Philip was gallantly rescued, placed 6 feet away from all other plants in the Office of Housing, and has since had a few Flat Stanley-like posts of his travels over campus before lockdown. He even had "surgery" to transplant him (a-hem) to a new pot, complete with medical chart and band-aids.
Oh, the joy I have gotten from watching this hilarious and heartwarming story!!! That is what I want my Facebook feed to be full of!! That is how we will all get through this!
Huh. This is not at all what I meant to write when I sat down. Is this how authors do it? Sit down with one thing in mind and then WHAM they are 1,482 miles west of where they started??
Huh. In any case, I feel better. Back to my book, which is set in Florida in 1935, and there is a storm coming. Appropriate.
Hope these characters do not end up in Mexico. ;-)
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