Day 89 in 2020 (isolation day 14)

A normal Sunday in our house for the most part, excepting, of course, all the remote lessons—Calvin's bassoon lesson and Jon teaching three piano lessons. I've never had so many people "in" our house before, and certain areas are being kept more consistently neat and dusted than ever (but only the areas that make it into the background of the videos).

Day 88 in 2020 (isolation day 13)

Thirteen days of isolation and we're spending our Saturday cleaning out and organizing the office. And Calvin willingly spent the afternoon shredding a huge box of personal paperwork that's been sitting in our basement for a couple of years now. We cleaned out the basement last weekend. 

We had our first thunderstorm of the year in the wee hours this morning. It sent the dog into bed with us and stole an hour of my sleep while I couldn't convince my brain that the sump pump wouldn't quit on us in our times of trial and require us to call strangers in to fix it, possibly infecting our home and loved ones. Early hours anxiety is not normal anxiety, it's a monster. But one of my favorite sounds is rain on the roof and rolling thunder. 

And ultimately we had a really delightful day. We slept in a little in the rain, breakfasted on farm fresh eggs, then put dinner in the slow cooker together before tackling our black hole of an office/storage room (I can't really call it the office anymore now that Jon has made the less cluttered guest room into his home office for the time being). Be bathed the dog, Calvin shredded, I inventoried our pantry, we had a great happy hour chat with family, and we finished with a lot of video games and the dinner we'd started after breakfast.

As much as we all miss friends and activities, I am so pleased to find this joy in my family.

Day 87 in 2020 (isolation day 12)

Spring rain, spring peepers, spring flowers...these are a few of our favorite things these days.

We won't know for a few weeks if, or how well, this isolation has worked to flatten the curve and save lives, but we are keeping our hopes up, and our bodies at home. Our minds and hearts, however, are all over the place. Calvin spent over four hours on a video chat with homeschooling friends this afternoon. Gimli and I did venture out, but only to a nearby metro park with ten foot wide paved trails where social distancing was easily achieved. That's where we found our spring peepers, and Gimli found lots of squirrels. And we enjoyed our weekly Friday beer date with family through computers. 

Day 85 in 2020 (isolation day 10)

Every day has it's ups and down. Dark spots today? We got the email from Calvin's dance studio effectively canceling the competition season—Calvin's first competition season, that he was so excited about—and offering a tuition adjustment, but, in the same sentence, subtly suggesting that maybe if we could afford it and we didn't ask for that adjustment, it might help the studio survive. Survive. Ouch. Also, Jon struggled throughout the morning to make a webinar happen even though internet everywhere is struggling under the load it suddenly must carry, but that was a bright spot, too, because...

Bright spots today? Jon played the hero today by, in spite of a multitude of hurdles, pulling off a successful webinar. Not a simple task, either. The webinar speaker was at his own house while Jon was on the floor of our storage room doing everything he could to keep the thing flowing smoothly with only a questionable internet connection. Also, the continuation of our daily online art class, and a very enjoyable Wednesday wine night online with family members. 

What's that you say, sign? There's going to be a major curve in the road ahead? Well, with help and hope we can handle this.

Day 84 in 2020 (isolation blog day 9)

I got a text this morning from our backyard neighbor, "Seeing your light on makes me smile. Just knowing you're there even though it is a yard away."

Our days have not actually changed all that much. We get up, Jon walks the dog while I make coffee and put away yesterday's dishes and Calvin gets started on school. That's when the light over our dining table goes on—the one that the neighbors can easily see from their own dining area, a cookie cutter version of ours—and the light usually stays on for the rest of the morning, at least until I used to take Calvin to school after lunch. And these days have been no different, except that the light often stays on longer as we spend the afternoon continuing with projects.

But that simple text was a touching reminder that life is not normal, and we are all in this together. When I go running outside now people cross the street as I come near, but they also wave and smile, and sometimes even call out a hello. I have had more social connections (remote social connections) with friends in the past week than I have in the last three months. And my neighbor, not usually home during a week day, reaches out just to say hello.

Who knew isolation could bring us so close?

When I left the house at lunchtime today to make a pharmacy run (likely the last time I'll go out for a long time), I left the light on in our dining room.