Thursday, March 26, 2020

Observations And Notations During The Time Of Coronavirus

When I walked past No Man Lord's place this morning I noticed that he had spelled out Jesus alongside a huge cross, all made from slices of bread. Well, part of the upright beam on the cross wasn't made of slices, but of loaves of french bread. I don't know how many bags of bread that message had required. And why? Had someone given him stale bread that he didn't want to eat? Was it moldy? Did he have so much bread that he decided to make a sort of art with some? Was it a sacrifice? Was he casting his bread not upon the waters but on the front yard?
I do not know and I did not ask.
I just walked on thinking that this made as much sense as anything seems to right now.

I am truly stuck in some sort of fog. I cannot commit to any project. I honestly do not know what I do all day. I didn't get the bed made until one o'clock this afternoon. I did fill up the teen chicks' feeder and waterer and I knew I wanted to cut up some greens and grapes and make some scrambled eggs for all of the chickens and this took me half the day to finally get around to. The little chicks were not so impressed but the big ones were happy with the bounty from the human.


From what I'd read yesterday scrambled eggs are another thing that helps with paste butt and I figured- why not? And the little banties that I cleaned up yesterday seem to be fine, their butts nice and poop-free. I think they even look more energetic. 

When I got in from my walk I entered the yard from the front gate and immediately saw this.


It was about three feet tall.
Oh shit, I thought. I hadn't checked, much less kicked any bamboo in days.


After I hung the clothes I went out to the side yard. I know it's hard to see but there must be dozens of shoots coming up from the one-inch size to the two or three foot size. I sighed with the perceived effort of doing what had to be done but I did it. I walked through my little office yard and it is in dire, dire need of weeding and pruning and tidying up and usually, that sort of project sort of excites me. It feels so good when I get it done. But right now, I just want to burn it all. Not really. That would be too much effort. I just want to hide my head in the sand and let the invasives take over.

I suppose my problem in general is that I want to hide my head in the sand. It would be one thing if it were just Mr. Moon and me but I have these children, these grandchildren to worry about and I can't really allow myself to think of Lily working at Publix, completely unable to keep a six-foot distance between her and customers, or of Jessie, working in the hospital. The reality of how contagious this virus is is way too frightening. The reality of people, even young people dying, is too much. And as these unavoidable facts become far more real every day, I seem to go deeper into a sort of dissociative fog.

Well.

I did get my sewing machine out of its case today. I ran a bobbin and started working on my dress, feeling guilty all the while because I am not making masks. The reality of that project seems too unbelievable to even contemplate. It's like my mother, telling me about "knittin' for Britain" during the war when women knit everywhere, even in dark movie theaters, making bandages for British soldiers. Are we really at this place where people are making masks for medical professionals out of our scraps?
Yes. Yes we are.
And this is another project that god knows I really should take on.

Two days ago I filed my nails.
My hair is relatively clean. I washed it yesterday when I got back from the stores. Psychological benefit only, I am sure. This is as much as I've accomplished in days. I am absolutely only doing the bare minimum to keep this house running, to keep us fed, to maintain at least some semblance of civilization.
My husband, meanwhile, is staying busy. He went crossbow turkey hunting this morning but he forgot to take his arrows. I think he really only wanted to get away to the woods. This is a good thing. He's been working in the garden all afternoon.


The mosquitos have been eating him alive. A week and a day after spring began and we are in summer. 

Gibson called me a little while ago. He frequently butt dials me so I was sort of surprised when he was really on the line. He'd stepped on a tack and I think he needed some sympathy. I have him a lot of that, knowing exactly how that feels and the horror of realizing that a tack is stuck into your foot and knowing it must be pulled out. I also told him to wash it very, very well and to have someone put a little antibiotic ointment on it. 
"Does antibiotic ointment sting?" he asked. 
"No. It doesn't sting at all," I told him. 
"Okay," he said. "Thank you, Mer."

And those few moments were the sharpest, clearest moments of my entire day. 

Here's my poor little wild azalea that blooms so late and less profusely than all of the rest of them. 


But it's a relatively rare one, orange instead of the usual ballerina pink and white and I cherish it. 

And in an entirely unrelated matter, if you are panting for distraction, I recommend you watch Netflicks' newest documentary series, Tiger King. Murder, Mayhem, and Madness. 
You may not feel good about yourself when you find that you are unable to turn away from the dump fire that it is, but I can almost guarantee that you'll be fascinated, even as you may become nauseous, creeped out, and stunned. Never a dull moment in this one!
Here's the trailer.


In case you haven't noticed, we live in a very strange world.
Now, of course, more than ever.

Still. We go on.
Thank god I can still cook.

Love...Ms. Moon

31 comments:

  1. Banty bottoms ,a bread crucifix, the tiger DOC , a tack in the toe- I need not read anything more today.
    I am more stressed about the bamboo than just about anything, maybe they have rent a Panda for day somewhere in Florida, seems that your state has just about everything. The bamboo in our neighborhood has gone unchecked- it is crazy successful.
    Take good care of yourself and mr. Moon, the kids will be OK. I have to believe that or I would lose my tiny little mind!

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    1. Rentapanda is the business we didn't know we needed.

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    2. I think it would take a large flock of pandas. Or whatever pandas are called in a group. Plus, I doubt that pandas would eat this sort of bamboo. But maybe!

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  2. My son, my only family aside from a sister very old and far away, works in a supermarket. I worry daily but try not to add to his own pressure by saying too much. But knowing hevhas a steady job and income doesn't stack up against the risk he takes daily. Then I remember I can't control anything. And I need to stop thinking that worrying is useful.

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    1. Worrying is not useful and I have to tell myself that about a thousand times a day. This all just fucking sucks.

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  3. I think most people feel like they are in a fog right now. Thank you for the flower and chicken and nature pics. They are beautiful and I always enjoy them. I'm about 50 pages away from finishing Where the Crawdads Sing - thank you for mentioning it. It has not disappointed - I am already sad to be nearing the end.

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    1. Oh, that's so funny, Jill! I didn't really like the book. In fact, we never quite finished it! But I'm glad you like it. A lot of people really love it. Take care, sweetie.

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    2. Hahaha yeah I have gotten the impression that people either really like or really don't like that book.

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  4. You could step on bamboo and shout Die, Corona. Die!
    I sympathize. The days are so long and what to do is so limited. Even naps become boring.
    So, please keep filling up a nice sheet of paper every day with what you've done and thought.
    Take care.

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    1. I'm not bored at all yet. I wonder if I'll get to that point. If I ever do, I might even get some decluttering and cleaning done.
      Don't hold your breath.

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  5. We are in a fog. Some crazy, nightmare world fog where we can't even hug our loved ones or get too close to a friend. I just keep telling myself it can't last forever and that is what you should do too. I know, that's not much help. But I care and I hope you feel better tomorrow. You prop us up all the time and we prop you up in return - deal? Hey - maybe you can prop up on one of those bamboo stalks? I care.

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    1. DEAL!
      It's all just so, so bizarre. And I fear that we're going to have to live in this sort of world for quite awhile. The key word though, is live. Let's do that.

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  6. The Fog is something I think we're all moving thru during these surreal times, nobody has seen a Pandemic in this Lifetime so it's hard to know how to react and to be most helpful, isn't it? It's hard to maintain a sense of Normalcy to any of our days when nothing is Normal anymore and as News becomes worse daily, absorbing that Reality has left me numb and doing most things by rote... with very little Sleep. Be Well and Stay Safe!

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    1. Thank god, I can still sleep. And I look forward to that period of unconsciousness every day. I don't think that I DO absorb the reality. Perhaps that's why I can sleep...

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  7. You basically described my mood for most of yesterday. When I had pulled my head out of that fog of misery one if my very elderly neighbours shouted across the street, isn't the sun lovely today? And we waved and I cried a but because that woman usually never says a word to me.
    I hope the sun is lovely where you are today.

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    1. It has been, Sabine. And that little story is one of a million that are happening everywhere and together, we humans and our spirits burn fiercely. Fiercely enough to burn away the fog at times.

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  8. Knitting for Britain Facemasks for Britain. Our vile govt has run NHS down so badly we have just put a billon out of date masks back into use. They are fine apparently but Fuck. The nation went outside at 8pm last night and applauded NHS workers. Amazing vids online of London applauding and other places
    I stayed in as in isolation. Feel they should have included shop workers refuse workers bus train staff etc They are talking of conscription of nurses to NHS million have come back to NHS My man is barrie nursing patients discharged from NHS but l am scared they will look at the fact that he is much higher qualified and conscript him back to NHS he recently escaped from. He is my carer. Scary days. Our Prime Minister has the virus so does our future king. Trump hasn't got it. They are privileged to get a test Keep writing Mary even if you do nothing else in a day. It is a public service Maybe we all need a bread crucifix. Maggi xxxx

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    1. They SAY Trump hasn't got it. I wonder, though.
      Maybe we all absolutely do need a bread crucifix.
      Hang in there, Maggi. You can do it.

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  9. All of us at work have been in a fog all week as well, unfocused, stressed and slightly irritable. We're helping each other, reminding each other, working together which is good. Between the four of us we got the late shifts covered next week by everybody sharing the misery.

    I was so tired last night I thought I was coming down with the virus. My body ached and I was beat. Turned out it was just fatigue. I feel fine this morning after a good nights sleep.

    Gracie isn't feeling well so I'll be checking on her. She has asthma, which I had forgotten, which puts her at risk.

    Still snow here so no gardening which would make me feel a lot better. Instead there is laundry, vacuuming and baking. Perhaps even quilting.

    I just read an Australian study on cloth masks and they suck when it comes to preventing the spread of the virus. Don't worry about making any.

    Be gentle with yourself. Enjoy the sunshine.

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    1. Yes- that was my initial reaction- what if people wear these masks thinking that they will help and then they don't? Ugh. It's all so ridiculous. We are so unprepared for anything like this to happen. We've been wandering around in these stupid bubbles worrying about what Kim Kardashian is wearing.
      You and your coworkers rock. Thank you for what you're doing.
      May Gracie be okay.
      May you get enough rest.
      Stay well, good woman.

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  10. so if the chickies eat scrambled eggs does that make them zombie chickens???

    take care. stay woke, stay home, stay alive.

    xxalainaxx

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    1. Not really but they do love to eat, uh, chicken which makes them at least cannibals. I love your advice. YOU TOO! Thank you.

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    2. That was my thought exactly. I didn't know chickens were cannibals! But then I don't know chickens!!

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  11. Dave and I began "Tiger King," and I listened to a podcast about the same subject last year. But we haven't continued it. I hate to say it, but the yuck factor may be just a little too high. We'll see.

    I completely understand your dissociative state. I mean, this is an unprecedented, bizarre time we're all living through, and to have two children working in situations that could expose them and their families has got to be frightening. I think I'm more in denial than anything.

    I like the spirit behind the idea of making masks, but I'm not sure they're practically all that valuable.

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    1. Oh, and please, please take a picture of No Man Lord's bread cross! I am dying to see what it looks like. If it hasn't been eaten already.

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    2. I can't take a picture! I'd need a drone to really get it. Plus, I don't want him to feel like I'm intruding on his faith or art or whatever. I sure wish I could.
      Yeah. Denial. It's my friend.
      Stay well, Steve.

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  13. I worry about my son who is border line diabetic they have just found out. summer here too. and feeling listless today. I've been pretty active all week working outside but not today. do I want to do that work out in the yard in the sun I asked myself. no, no I do not.

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    1. And these days, it's always so easy to say, "Tomorrow."
      I'm sorry about your son. Another reason to be careful.

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  14. Day one of our 21 day isolation- I managed to tidy one small cupboard while listening to Stephen Fry read Harry Potter. I have dress material for my granddaughters (bought many years ago for my daughters),but no patterns.I am also typing out my late father's POW diary he kept during the 2WW: Freezing cold,not enough food and lice,so our incarceration is pure luxury compared to that. I feed the wild birds the left-over chicken sometimes.Hopefully not too terrible. How lovely that Gibson phones you with his worries- You are definitely a number 1 Grandmother!

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    1. Sounds like you're keeping well and busy! I'm glad of that.What an amazing thing it must be to have your father's diary. Wow. Yeah. We are in the lap of luxury compared to a POW camp.
      I feed my chickens chicken sometimes. They love it.
      I was surprised that Gibson called me but I was so glad that he did. Sweet little boy.

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Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.