I’ve been noticing that the sidewalks in front of a number of houses in my neighborhood are decorated with chalk designs: hearts and hopscotch courts, multicolored stars and various other geometric designs. But the one I saw on my twenty-minute walk yesterday afternoon was by far the most original and relevant.
Yesterday I showed you my photo of that squirrel on my porch. Now that I’ve cut it out in Photoshop, I should figure out other things to do with it. Like how about a trip (so to speak) back to the early 1970s?
I was telling Eleni that when I was nine (as my granddaughter Ember is), my six-year-old first cousin Gregory was hit by a car and killed. I remember how sad the adults were, but try as I might, I couldn’t imagine Greg gone forever, so I never really felt the pain of it. Death, like the pandemic, was too abstract an idea for me to grasp at that age. If the concept of an unseen potentially lethal virus is hard for an adult to wrap her brain around, it must be unfathomable for little ones. I feel bad for my grandchildren (and all children/teens) that their young worlds are rocked in ways they can’t understand but that profoundly affect them. No structure of school. No friends. No grandparents. And it must seem like it’s going on forever, with their child’s sense of time. I miss them so much, and I can’t be there for them. Sadly, Ember hates telephone and video conversations, so I can’t keep up with her that way. While Jesse seems to enjoy chatting more, Ember is more of an in-person kind of woman. It could be a while.
Today is hard. It’s sunny and beautiful, but outside is filled with people I have to avoid so I stay in. In, there’s nothing I’m interested in doing. Don’t want to draw, read a book, clean a room. Nothing to say to anyone by phone or e-mail. No inspiration to create something. Once again I can’t help but compare myself to friends and others who are holding down jobs and/or pursuing productive activities like painting their houses (Hi, Vicki!) and making scores of masks (I’m talking about you, Marianna), and who-knows-whatall. The only thing I’ve accomplished is biting off my fingernails (not like me). To make matters worse, as always I am fully cognizant that my whinging is petty in light of the hardships that others are going through: loss of employment and, uh, death. But I’m just writing here anyway because it’s my scrapbook; I can whine if I want to. It’s part of the historical record.
Ma told me that essential peppermint oil is a good deterrent for my rodent enemies. So a new experiment begins. I have dotted three oil-infused cotton balls strategically around my back deck. You’d think, its being on the second story, I wouldn’t have such a problem, but the jerks climb right up.
It will be interesting to see if the peppermint smell deters them
And — speaking of Vicki’s painting — why don’t you use all this free time to do some too?? Rewarding!
read this:
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/apr/23/social-distancing-social-pods-coronavirus-lockdown
i think i would trust you to be in my pod. so don’t drink or eat anything after 9 o’clock tonight. pee in the morning so you don’t have to on your drive up here 😉
Marianna: Oh, yeah, I would love to be in your pod, with your good company and cooking and games, and all the knitting things you could show me! Yours would be the most happening and desirable pod in town. The Guardian article presents an interesting scenario. We’re gonna have to figure out SOMEthing to maintain real social connection while minimizing risk. Though I tend to be somewhat isolated in my Real Life, this is definitely too much.
didn’t do anonymous on purpose. sorry. we could have us some fun. but you have to realize i take this isolation very seriously. i can’t afford to get this disease. it would be the end for me.
but yes, we could be creative together.
i thought i could open up to folks who feel the same way i do and people i can trust to keep themselves and me safe.
stephen is missing a musical partner, i can’t fill that role for him. you should hear me sing, i don’t even qualify there. but i do it. we sit together at night at times and he plays and sings and i shout along 😉
your daughter eleni was here a long time ago and had some fun doing making music together. but would she even remember?
I like your psychedelic squirrel! One can hardly tell it’s Photoshopped.
I hope that the peppermint oil trick works! And if all else fails, at least the squirrels will be more pleasantly-scented.
And a reminder: don’t you go beating yourself up for not doing more with your time. As we have discussed: just getting through the time is an accomplishment, and you should be proud of it.
Amen, Lulu!
I remember that time well, and fondly, Marianna! I was just thinking of it recently. I had a blast, and felt safe and cared for. How lucky that you were willing to provide some respite for me and my mom! Thank you!
Mama, maybe if you break down and give yourself a quarantine haircut you can place your trimmings around the plants the squirrels favor as well as all the inedible things they like to mess with. The jerks.
Molly and Eleni: I just have the best daughters.
Your squirrel is hilarious amongst the groovy crew!!!
My suggestion to you is don’t paint your house!!! It’s exhausting!!!
I have noticed the chalk art. Are you tempted to join in?
Have you noticed when a hopscotch game is etched on the sidewalk
It starts nice and big and then towards the end it’s barely big enough for your big toe!!! What is that bout?
I credit my upbringing.
I was fact-checking myself just now, since I couldn’t recall when or where I heard that hair tip and you I know what? I just learned that dog hair is also recommended and may in fact be a more effective deterrent, so…
I do hope early 70’s squirrel got to do some drugs and join in the hippie cuddle puddle! Unless of course the puddle were on your porch… Although, that could be pretty entertaining? I second what miz Molly was saying – it can be all too easy to beat ourselves up about not being or doing “enough” right now, especially with social media blaring bs at us all day – take one day at a time and support one another when and how we have capacity to do so. So grateful you’re here with me! 🙂