“How many squares of tissue are you using? We need to cut it down to 3 squares per flush.” RLT
“We live in a linear world and the pandemic is exponential.” VMW
The wisdom of Camus vs Trump
“What’s true of all the evils in the world is true of the plague as well. It helps men to rise above themselves. All the same, when you see the misery it brings, you’d need to be a madman, or a coward, or stone blind, to give in tamely to the plague.”
“What’s natural is the microbe. All the rest – health, integrity, purity (if you like) – is a product of the human will, of a vigilance that must never falter. The good man, the man who infects hardly anyone, is the man who has the fewest lapses of attention.” Albert Camus, The Plague
“We pretty much shut it down coming in from China. It’s going to be fine.”
“We’re going very substantially down, not up.”
“One day it’s like a miracle, it will disappear.”
“And this is their new hoax.”
“It will go away. Just stay calm. It will go away.”
“I’ve always known this is a real, this is a pandemic.” Donald J. Trump
Chaos versus Love
All of our major life decisions are made at Farmfood Restaurant in Adair Village, Oregon. This tiny, chef-owned farm-to-table restaurant features wonderful food in a casual atmosphere and apparently lends itself to romance. At least for us it does. In November 2019, one of us asked the other person if we wanted to get married. We had been living together for a year and that decision was made right there at Farmfood Restaurant. Look, it really doesn’t matter who asked who. Let it go!
But, Virginia and I decided right then and there to tie the knot. Neither of us wanted a big wedding. Or any wedding for that matter. The idea of a wedding seemed almost goofy. So, we decided to elope. We wanted to formally acknowledge that we were committed to sharing the rest of our lives together and eloping seemed to be the best option. No muss. No fuss. Exchange rings. Kiss. Champagne toast. And voila, we were married. On our deck. With celebrant and witnesses standing six feet apart. In the midst of a pandemic. With all but the beautiful bride, in the high-risk group. It doesn’t matter how much younger she is. Let it go!
In this period of time, with the world as we know it, essentially shut down; with news reports changing hourly; with social distancing; with de-densification; in an atmosphere of fear and isolation; love wins. Love wins. Our love rules. Coronavirus be damned. We got married. With the beginning of spring, we got married. With daffodils and cherry trees blooming, we got married. There is hope. There is love and no matter how screwed up the rest of the world is, we have each other and that is enough. We are sufficient. We are whole.
But even though we are sheltered together, life still goes on. We still need wine. And maybe food.
“I’m going to the store. Do you need anything”, I ask my bride? “Maybe some toilet paper”, she calmly replied. “Ok. Got it”, I said as I headed for the door. “Don’t forget you are in the high-risk group and stay at least six feet away from people”, she hollers after me. What she’s really saying is; “dude, you’re old.”
I don’t feel particularly old, except when I get up in the morning and every part of my body screams that I am ancient. But on this day, even as the news proclaims that the number of Coronavirus cases has doubled in the last week, I feel invincible. No damn little blob of nucleic acid wrapped in protein is going to keep me from my food supply. I am an expert forager. I know the contents of every Safeway aisle by heart. Look, I think to myself, whole pallets of toilet paper in aisle 6. Could there be a run on toilet paper, I ask myself? It is a good thing Virginia asked me to put it on the list. I calmly finish my shopping, carefully keeping my cart six feet from anyone else, causing the checkout line to back up and blockade the main traffic aisle. I don’t care. I’m old. People need to respect that.
“Hi honey, I’m home”, I declare as I burst in from the garage. “We need to move into a bigger house”, I say. “I bought 37 pallets of toilet paper and we need a bigger house to store it all.” “You did what?”, she asks in a rather demanding tone of voice. “You asked for toilet paper. I bought some. During these difficult days of being stranded together for who knows how long, who knows when the next shipment of tissue may arrive? Remember, a few months ago, you asked me to take charge of planning and arranging our disaster supplies? Consider this the beginning.” “I meant stuff like a first aid kit and water and basic foodstuffs; not a warehouse quantity of T-P.” “Look”, I said, “we are in a lock-down state of emergency. We need to take care of critical functions first. 24 cases of wine and 37 pallets of toilet paper should do it.” “What about vegetables”, she asked? “Doggone it. I’m pretty sure they were out of kale. I bought some bananas.” So much for the first day of marriage. And we don’t need a larger house. We have an attic and a basement and a little creativity. Did you know that toilet tissue when stacked properly can make a very comfy sofa? Life is beautiful.
Husbandry 