“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!

I thought I would introduce a little merriment into a post. I was humming an old Aretha Franklin song the other day and I realized she was asking “who’s zooming who?” If you want to hear the whole song you can https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=Gi6yGuvKv_E. I claim no responsibility for any ad that youtube plays first. I just had to click through an ad for a conspiracy newspaper!

Zoom has a long and checkered meaning, long before it was applied to that application now being used for office meetings, religious services, and book clubs. In this case it just suggests who is checking who out–you or me? In a way this also applies to the present incarnation of Zoom. How often do you find yourself checking out the books behind the speaker, the pets wandering in and out, the 80’s decor? But as Aretha points out “who’s zooming who?” I wonder what everyone in church is learning about me!

A lot of people are tired of being told to stay home. A lot of people are longing to get haircuts. A few people apparently are longing to get tattoos and go bowling. How else to explain the governor of Georgia opening beauty salons, tattoo parlors and bowling alleys? Georgia continues to have a rise in cases of covid-19. If you are anywhere other than the state of Georgia(or one of the doubtful citizens within Georgia) you might wonder what is going on. Grievously enough, politics is winning over science.

In some ways, this is not surprising since we have had a number of movements to discount science in the United States in recent years. Climate change is a hoax. Vaccinations cause illness. And so on. But the virus is not a hoax. It was not concocted by (take your choice) Bill Gates, the Deep State, WHO, or George Soros. It is very real, there is no cure for it, and people are dying at an astonishing rate in the United States.

I am grateful once again that I live in a part of the United States still committed to finding a way forward that honors both health and the economy. Quickly opening work places, restaurants, movie theaters, beaches and shopping malls without knowing who carries and spreads the illness will have one effect. It will kill people. And in case some governors don’t seem to grasp the obvious: the economy needs healthy people in order to thrive.

I grew up in a home surrounded by lush growth of flowers and trees. No one gardened the property as it was part of the “natural landscaping” look popular at the time. That meant there were numerous native plants, including trillium and johnny-jump-ups. There were also remnants of the time when the home, built in 1909, had employed  a gardener. Hence roses, rhododendrons, daffodils, dogwood, and snowdrop bushes bloomed every spring. Countless trees populated the two acres, so many that when a storm in 1960 took our 13 trees, there were still plenty left.

In other words, I took plants for granted and never took up gardening as a hobby. Fortunately, I married a man who has a real talent in the yard and who recognized a neglected yard when he saw one. After we married in 1988, he began to FEED the plants which then actually thrived. When we moved into our present home in 2001, he continued his practice of feeding, watering, pruning, dividing and transplanting the landscaping already present. And in the intervening 19 years, he has introduced thousands of bulbs, perennials and shrubs to our city lot.

He especially loves spring bulbs, and he fights with the squirrels who want to dig them up for meals every fall after they go in the ground. He also has added some perennials to a shady spot in the yard. Above are three plantings that recently bloomed, two from bulbs, one from a plant.

Often I carelessly overlook all his work, taking it for granted in the same way I took my childhood surroundings for granted. This spring I am housebound and rejoicing at each new bloom, grateful beyond measure for having married a man with a genuine green thumb.