Chronicles of the Virus Day 22
Rain, rain, rain. That's our lot today.
This week is supposed to be checkered in the weather department. A couple of good days, a couple of bad days. If ever weather helped to determine mood, this is one of those times.
Since our baker doesn't deliver on Sundays, my husband drove into town to buy today's bread, along with a couple of Sunday croissants. They're delicious, but I prefer them French style. Spanish croissants have a sugary glaze over them that I find too sweet.
The good thing is that the death count is down, to around six hundred people in the last twenty-four hours. That is a lot of people, but less than the over nine hundred that died one day in the past week.
So, next week my husband goes back to work, and then the confinement will slowly be lifted week after week. Everyone is saying that gloves and face masks will become obligatory. I take gloves whenever I leave the house, to put on before I enter the supermarket, but I only have one face mask. I tried to wear it once, because my husband insisted on it, but I had to take it off. My glasses fogged up. So, what do I do now? Either I wear my glasses and don't see, or I don't wear my glasses and I don't see. Driving should be fun.
The other problem with the masks is that homemade ones aren't appropriate to prevent the virus from passing through. That means we have to buy them. I haven't searched for them, either online or in a store, but I've heard that they are selling at higher prices than Cabbage Patch dolls when the craze hit back in 1983. That's a lot of money. Besides, there really aren't enough masks, and the ones that are being made are going directly to the hospitals, where they are very needed.
Our daughter has been pressing us to conduct a Midsummer bonfire this year, if she's allowed to come down from Santiago in time. Fire purifies, and I understand my ancestors a little bit more this year. Science explains and comforts in its knowledge, but superstition helps against the niggling doubts. If I don't walk under that ladder, I might avoid something bad. (Obviously I'll avoid being hit with whatever might fall from the hand of who is on it.) If I carry a rabbit's foot, I might get lucky. (Or I might be more on the lookout for a chance, and take advantage of something I might not have otherwise noticed.) Man is not a rational animal. So, the bonfire might purify evil and chase the hexing witches away. (Viruses don't like the heat, either.)
If toilet paper became the new gold in most of the world, in parts of the United States, fire arms and ammunition takes its place. In Florida, over ten thousand new permits were issued these days, before the quarantine came into effect, and ammunition became a best-seller. If here, pesky neighbors call the cops every time they see someone in the street, even if they have every right to be there, I hate to think what some Floridians might do. I think there are going to be neighborhoods where more are going to die by fire arms than by the virus. Don't people read the newspapers? Crime has actually gone down. Like I said, man is not a rational animal.
Life continues.
This week is supposed to be checkered in the weather department. A couple of good days, a couple of bad days. If ever weather helped to determine mood, this is one of those times.
Since our baker doesn't deliver on Sundays, my husband drove into town to buy today's bread, along with a couple of Sunday croissants. They're delicious, but I prefer them French style. Spanish croissants have a sugary glaze over them that I find too sweet.
The good thing is that the death count is down, to around six hundred people in the last twenty-four hours. That is a lot of people, but less than the over nine hundred that died one day in the past week.
So, next week my husband goes back to work, and then the confinement will slowly be lifted week after week. Everyone is saying that gloves and face masks will become obligatory. I take gloves whenever I leave the house, to put on before I enter the supermarket, but I only have one face mask. I tried to wear it once, because my husband insisted on it, but I had to take it off. My glasses fogged up. So, what do I do now? Either I wear my glasses and don't see, or I don't wear my glasses and I don't see. Driving should be fun.
The other problem with the masks is that homemade ones aren't appropriate to prevent the virus from passing through. That means we have to buy them. I haven't searched for them, either online or in a store, but I've heard that they are selling at higher prices than Cabbage Patch dolls when the craze hit back in 1983. That's a lot of money. Besides, there really aren't enough masks, and the ones that are being made are going directly to the hospitals, where they are very needed.
Our daughter has been pressing us to conduct a Midsummer bonfire this year, if she's allowed to come down from Santiago in time. Fire purifies, and I understand my ancestors a little bit more this year. Science explains and comforts in its knowledge, but superstition helps against the niggling doubts. If I don't walk under that ladder, I might avoid something bad. (Obviously I'll avoid being hit with whatever might fall from the hand of who is on it.) If I carry a rabbit's foot, I might get lucky. (Or I might be more on the lookout for a chance, and take advantage of something I might not have otherwise noticed.) Man is not a rational animal. So, the bonfire might purify evil and chase the hexing witches away. (Viruses don't like the heat, either.)
If toilet paper became the new gold in most of the world, in parts of the United States, fire arms and ammunition takes its place. In Florida, over ten thousand new permits were issued these days, before the quarantine came into effect, and ammunition became a best-seller. If here, pesky neighbors call the cops every time they see someone in the street, even if they have every right to be there, I hate to think what some Floridians might do. I think there are going to be neighborhoods where more are going to die by fire arms than by the virus. Don't people read the newspapers? Crime has actually gone down. Like I said, man is not a rational animal.
Life continues.
Yes, we are not as rational as we'd like to believe we are! Right now the rain may get us down, but I can't help thinking that it will be worse if we have to stay in during the summer heat. Be safe, mon amie.
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