Chronicles of the Virus Day 27

Today is a down day. 

The weather is grey, with rain from time to time. It feels like a blah Sunday. On the plus side, my husband tries to make me smile, and at times, I give in to his sun. I like that it's there, to bask in its warmth at different moments. Because everything else is cloudy.

If this were a normal year, we would probably now be driving through Galicia, trying to escape to the less rainy areas, to revisit places we've been, or discover new ones. Following our nose, or an interesting sign. The songs on the radio would be beating out their rhythm on the dashboard, and the windows would be cracked open to let the fresh air tickle our faces. 

Instead, I'm sitting at the computer, my outlet to the world, and my husband is watching television while drinking the after lunch coffee. And the afternoon will wear on until it's evening and then we can think about what we want for supper. And then we can watch the evening shows that interest us and go to bed. And we begin again tomorrow.

Monday, he goes back to work, and I'll be alone all day. Two more weeks, which will most likely be followed by two more weeks. After which, hopefully, we'll be allowed to leave the house, at least. Even if the cafés and bars will still be closed, as well as most retail businesses. Though I've vowed not to buy more clothes until summer, to replace worn t-shirts, I miss passing through the stores, looking at things calling out to me, and having the satisfaction of saying, "not today, I don't need you." I like to peruse stores, even if I don't buy anything. On a moody day like today, it's a way of leaving my mood behind and looking out at the world differently. It should make me more depressed, not being able to buy a lot of things, but it's the opposite. As I see things I like, I get a satisfaction from realizing I don't need them. I suppose it makes me see I have all I need, so my mood tends to lift.

Oh, I might succumb to one little thing. Mostly, it's something I can put to use, like a new pen, or pencils for my students to use. Or a pretty little notebook to keep in my purse until it's full. Or a book in English from one of the bookstores that carry them. But little else. I don't remember the last time I bought clothes.

At least, there are interesting things to discover on the internet, like the priest in a small town in Catalunya that asked for and received permission to say Holy Thursday Mass on the back of an open truck. Some residents loved it, others couldn't believe their eyes. The priest was happy he had the chance to bless the streets of the town. I don't know if the coronavirus is Catholic or not, though. 

A woman went out for a walk in the park with her dog and took a picture. Later, she realized that, though the dog was in the picture, it was difficult to see it. It took me a while, but I finally found it. I'll put it here, and you can figure it out, too. 

A city block of apartment houses became a 90's disco, complete with lights, flashing and Christmas, and the iconic bakalao song by Chimo Bayo, Así me gusta a mi, which my generation danced to over twenty years ago. Memories.  

At least there are people who make you laugh or chuckle these days. Laughter is always necessary, but during times like these, it's like finding a pot of gold. 

Life continues.

Comments

  1. Sometimes it's good to let ourselves feel down. It lets us appreciate the bright times when they arrive. Yes, it took some squinting to find her dog! We always forget that our eyes and brains see things in a different way from our cameras. Take care, mon amie. The sun will return. And hopefully normal life also one day.

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  2. Está ben escondido o raio do cadelo.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Very true. Hitting a small reserve of laughter is like hitting a secret pot of gold. Looks like a lot if us have been thinking about what we miss...Take care, stay safe. https://helpincoronatimes.wordpress.com/2020/04/08/what-i-miss/

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