The photo on the left shows my a screen shot of one of the trainers at my gym demonstrating an exercise. In the background you can see a variety of equipment there, including medicine balls, kettle bells, weights, mats and foam rollers. Not shown are a variety of pulley and weight pieces of equipment which can be easily adjusted for any given exercise.

On the right is a photo of the set of resistance bands I am using at home to approximate the exercises from the gym. None of them are weights. It has been impossible to buy weights, kettle bells or other assorted equipment for weeks. I guess that the people who bought all that flour and yeast for baking realized that they were losing muscles and gaining fat! They rushed out to buy fitness devices. The bands are not easily adjusted. They are looped through the object that looks like a roller on a strap which has been shut in a door to hold the bands steady. To change the exercise I have to open the door, move the roller to the right location, close the door and reattach the straps.

It will be a long time before I am able to return to my gym. Social distancing isn’t possible and much of the equipment would be difficult to keep germ free. I imagine my age group will be excluded for the longest time of any.

I am grateful that I was able to buy the resistance band set. I am grateful that I have a door to use with them. But in a contest between the gym and working out a home, the gym wins hands down!

I used to meet about once a month at 11:30 at the Panera Bread cafe for lunch with a dear friend. I would usually have a salad with chicken, she a soup and half salad or half sandwich. The food was not the reason we were getting together, so it didn’t matter that there is nothing fancy about the place. Getting there at 11:30 guaranteed a good seat before the place filled up. We would often stay for an hour or an hour and a half talking. Nothing astonishing, just catching up on our lives, our families, books we were reading or shows we had watched.

Of course we have missed our March and April meals, and are certain to miss a few more. Yes, we talk on the phone, but it isn’t the same. We started getting together in the first place because we wanted a closer connection than the one we had established on the phone. Now we have had to take a step back and we can notice the difference.

It turns out that these casual get-togethers were much more important to me than I realized. I miss her, the cashier, the person trying to convince me to use a machine instead of the cashier and the bustling atmosphere. It really was never about the food, as it turns out. Right after the book store and the haircut, I hope to meet up for lunch again.

I am a nonstop reader and have been since I was very little. I have no way to afford all the books I read each year, so I rely heavily on the local library. We are fortunate to live in a small state with many town libraries, each housing different collections depending on the tastes of the librarian. Interlibrary loan allows me to have books sent to my library from all over the state. I can place holds on popular books and just wait for an email alerting me that I can come pick them up. Our own town’s library has an excellent selection of new books, both fiction and nonfiction. My tastes seem to align more with the librarian than with many of my neighbors, and I can often check out a book just after I have read a review of it in The New York Times.

As I wrote last fall, I have also become a devotee of Riverbend Books in the adjoining town. This independent shop has an eclectic assortment of volumes and introduces me to many I would otherwise miss. I buy books here when they look worth owning. Because I read fiction so quickly, I rarely buy fiction, but do purchase history and social science offerings there.

Enter the pandemic. The library has been closed since mid-March. Riverbend Books has been closed since mid-March. Nothing here will open before May 20. The bookstore may be able to have a couple of customers at a time wearing masks. The library will likely remain closed much longer. While I know that many readily have changed to e-books, I cannot stand them. I need the physical book in my hands. With such a reduced availability of books, I have really had to come up with a Covid-19 reading strategy. Sadly, no strategy has been able to duplicate in any way my normally abundant reading life.

Forget getting a haircut. Forget going to the movies. I need to go to a bookstore! I need the library!

“This is a great time for people to explore America. A lot of people haven’t seen many parts of America,” Mnuchin said.

The Secretary of the U.S. Treasury Department, quoted above, I regularly think of as Munchkin. He seems often to have just as much common sense as the little people in the Wizard of Oz. But yesterday he outdid himself with his suggestion that as Dinah Shore sang years ago, “see the U.S.A. in your Chevrolet, American is asking you to call.” I wonder if he is worried about how low the gasoline prices are going. The photo on the left is the gas price from May 2019 in our neighborhood. The photo on the right shows the prices today. Gasoline is sitting unsold. This is bad for the oil companies, I know, so Mnuchin wants to help them out.

With advice like this coming from the top of the federal government, I suppose some people will actually plan road trips to see the country. Spring break vacationers from Florida spread the virus all over our country. Drivers doing such trips this summer ought to guarantee that any quiet spots currently free of the virus will have it delivered to their door steps.

As I say almost every day “you can’t make this stuff up.”

Peace to you all from the locked down State of Connecticut, third hardest hit state in the country. I suggest you don’t put it on your summer itinerary.

Last year I began planning for a cruise to Bermuda leaving from New York City on May 3, 2020. I saved for the trip and bought tickets, as did my close friend who lives 3000 miles away from me. We looked forward to it, each bought a new suitcase just for the adventure, and imagined where we might sit on the boat to enjoy reading. Our dreams resembled the photo on the right above.

We became aware of the growing pandemic in February, and began to wonder if we would still travel. As time went by, and especially as New York City was devastatingly hit by the virus (brought to our coast from Europe on thousands of arriving flights) we knew that it was very unlikely. Still the cruise line hedged their bets and our money by offering us, in March, a chance to swap our tickets for 125% cruise credit for next year. We held out, no longer interested in being on a large boat in a pandemic, awaiting a refund offer. A series of offers from the cruise line followed, each a little more enticing than the last, finally making a refund mandatory since the trip was cancelled. We filed for a refund, due within 30 days (45 days ago, by the way) and were relieved that we hadn’t been taken in by the offer.

Now I spend a lot of time in the chair on the left, very comfortable to be sure, but lacking sea air. From this chair I use Face Time to talk with my friend every other day. While we are grateful that we have homes, food, family and some money, we are disappointed about our trip. We talk about in 2021 or 2022 driving to Quebec.  But we will get to use our passports, renewed for the ill- fated Bermuda visit. And we will travel with our new suitcases!

To begin thinking about the difference the pandemic has had on my life, I share two photos of me with one or two grandchildren. In the photo on the left I am embracing a granddaughter as we float along a mill pond at Old Sturbridge Village. She was a little dubious about the ride and needed my reassurance which I could give her with a tight hug. I have always had a physically affectionate relationship with the kids.

Because their parents’ work  exposes them to the virus, and because my husband and I are both in the “old” category, we have had to maintain a six foot distance when connecting with the kids. In the photo on the right I have measured out the safe space with a tape(barely visible on the lawn in the shade). They are sitting together(out of the shot since I don’t show them on-line) and talking with me. In a bit we played a trivia game on an app called Kahoot which they demonstrated for me. I won General Knowledge but flunked Memory. My grandson went off to ride his scooter and my granddaughter lingered a bit to talk books.

Yes I can still see them when the weather permits. But no, there is not the easy flow between our homes with one or the other popping in for a visit. I can’t touch them, can’t sit near by to watch a movie, and can’t share a meal at our table. We can’t go on outings such as the one to Sturbridge. We can’t take a summer trip together.

On the whole then, the pandemic has had a negative effect on the grandmother connection. We are having to put great effort where there used to be simple ease. I have yet to identify any positive effects from the virus for our relationship.

Because so much of my daily routine has been shifted from in person interactions to ones on-line, I thought I would devote the next several posts to comparing the way I am experiencing the difference. I will look at grocery purchases, book purchases, church attendance, workouts, meetings with friends, meetings with family members and book clubs.

The series will start tomorrow.

The neighbor’s daughter had her 13th birthday Thursday in the middle of the virus epidemic. A big birthday with a potential big disappointment. But her mother arranged for a virtual party, and according to the reports it was a big hit.

Helium balloons were delivered to the house and placed behind the computer chair. Then the surprise Zoom party began as six of her friends signed on. They each had received a party game and treats sent ahead to each home. Then an acting teacher came on and led them in 30 minutes of improvisation.

Since the girl’s father works in Manhattan as an essential worker, she has been out of physical contact with any of her friends for six weeks now. And it is unclear when they will be able to get together again. As you may remember from your own adolescence, being quarantined with your parents is no one’s idea of a fun time!

Still I was impressed with what was possible with a little creativity and a lot of preparation. Well done to you Mom.

Early in our marriage, my husband walked over to a very tall fir tree across from our church and proceeded to climb it. I was appalled and let him know. It made no difference, and he went to the top and came down successfully. I had my eyes closed for most of the ascent and descent. Yesterday, I learned that my 10 year old grandson has also taken to climbing trees. I was equally distressed. I started to wonder about males and tree climbing. Why do they do it? How often do they fall? How often do they even think about falling? Is the possibility of falling part of the excitement?

I complained that I had never had any desire to climb any tree. I maintained that it was a foolish, dangerous thing to do. I reminded everyone in ear shot about the time my friend Norman Smith failed to fly from the top of the garden shed, thereby breaking his arm. No one seemed to care. There was no indication that my grandson would change his course in the future.

But then I ran across this photo from 1954. That is me up in a tree. I have somehow managed to stand on the swing seat, pull myself up using the rope I suppose and then holler for help. Apparently this photo was taken just before I was helped down.

I guess I need to be quiet about why anyone climbs a tree!