Collected Item: “Bill / Pauline's Covid Journal #7”
I agree:
Yes
Name:
Bill Hogan
Date(s):
May 8, 2020
Title:
Bill / Pauline's Covid Journal #7
Text:
An Alternative View from the Hogan Household -- May 8
I have been informed that it’s my turn to write the weekly coronavirus musings. Bill insists that I promised to do it this week. I remember agreeing vaguely to write one sometime in the undefined future. But here I am at the computer, having lost the argument polite discussion over the issue.
I still am trying to convince myself that this really is the situation we are in. How could my previous 72 years of free movement and joyful mingling not have prepared me for this? I suppose I can see where the protesters come from – they simply refuse to believe that the life they had always lived has changed so much. Much like the men who react with anger to the idea of women in leadership, they simply refuse to let go of their grip on what the world is supposed to ensure is their right. I don’t have a lot of sympathy for these idiots, but I have a little.
My personal adjustment to social isolation has not been very traumatic. Although I spent years in activities that required extroverted behaviour, as a teacher and a camp director and a kids’ club leader, I am an acknowledged introvert. I’m quite happy, actually, to not be attending meetings or socializing – quite happy to spend my evenings reading a good book or watching a movie in the comfort and snack-laden environment of our TV room. And we have, when the sun has been shining, been able to take a few leisurely walks along the canal, nodding cheerfully as we quickly pass, at a distance, others doing the same thing.
There are a few issues. I am not used to having a husband underfoot all day long, who thinks nothing of demanding my attention or help – usually with the @#$%&* computer -- at any time, no matter what I’m involved in. Weighed in the balance of the alternative, however, I am so thankful to have a companion at home to share this time with. And, usually, he’s not too grumpy. Except when the @#$%&* cat throws up on the rug.
Thank goodness for the technology the brilliant younger generation has provided for us! What would we do without the ability to check the latest coronavirus numbers at a moment’s notice? Or to watch all those absorbing cat videos? Or penguins/goats visiting other animals? Or seeing what latest gaffe has come out of the White House? Or learning new recipes – thank you Alison Roman, and Jamie Oliver, and the many other chefs who are broadening our recipe repertoires along with our waistlines. And what would we do without the weekly Skype call with our family in Switzerland, I can’t imagine. We missed our usual Easter trip with them this year, and are holding on to hope that we’ll still see them here at the end of June. But at this point, nothing is certain. I think that’s the worst part of this whole pandemic experience, that we are so uncertain of what is going to happen next week, never mind next month.
Another technological marvel I’m thankful for is Zoom. Amazingly, I can still gather with my women’s Bible study group every week, from the comfort of my own desk chair. It’s not always perfect – and there are unexpected entertaining moments when a dog or child or husband wanders into the room. The father of our pastor’s wife can be counted on to either phone his daughter in the middle of our meeting, or wander into the room where his wife is participating in the discussion, to ask a question in his booming voice. We love him anyway. Apparently a recent US Supreme Court meeting was interrupted by a flushing toilet; we haven’t had that happen yet. So I am enjoying living in the future that science fiction when I was a child predicted would occur.
Speaking of science fiction, do you think aliens are somehow controlling the weather this spring? We had snow today – May 8, for Pete’s sake! Maybe the same aliens who are messing with our spring are also throwing the coronavirus at us. My theory is at least as plausible as some of the ones I’ve heard suggested. Cell phone towers? Bioweapon? Can it be true that we’ve just run up against nature at its most capricious, and that we have to admit we can’t control everything? Naah. When we were kids, we blamed everything on the Russians. Now it’s the Chinese. When we run out of Asians to blame, we’ll have to fall back on aliens.
We, i.e. Bill and I, are actually a lot more fortunate than many others. We have a lovely back yard, lush this time of the year with daffodils and hyacinths. We’ve planted many tulips over the years, but since we also have a heritage walnut tree in our yard, we are cursed with squadrons of squirrels, who can be very entertaining to watch, but who are convinced that every tulip bulb under the soil and every tulip bud that survives to poke its head above the soil is intended for their gourmet tastes. So we’ve given up on tulips of our own, and enviously admire our neighbour’s gorgeous display. Meanwhile, we’re grateful that squirrels dislike daffodils, so we add a few more – daffodils, that is, not squirrels -- each year, and they lift our spirits as we stroll in our yard. We are genuinely sorry for those of you cooped up in apartments.
I want to pass along some book recommendations. I’ve discovered a Canadian author who writes mysteries set in BC just after WWII. The heroine is a former British secret agent, who meets a dashing RCMP officer in the course of solving murders in her small community. Lots of fun, by Iona Whishaw. Another Canadian author, David Bezmozgis, is a lovely writer, but paints a more sober picture of the immigrant experience. And for a new look at the conflicts between East and West, dig into The Silk Roads, by Peter Frankopan. It’s non-fiction, and thick, but fascinating. You have extra time now for reading, so treat yourself to some challenging historical stuff.
I will sign off for now, and hopefully Bill will be back next week for your regularly scheduled email.
Stay safe, please.
Pauline
I have been informed that it’s my turn to write the weekly coronavirus musings. Bill insists that I promised to do it this week. I remember agreeing vaguely to write one sometime in the undefined future. But here I am at the computer, having lost the argument polite discussion over the issue.
I still am trying to convince myself that this really is the situation we are in. How could my previous 72 years of free movement and joyful mingling not have prepared me for this? I suppose I can see where the protesters come from – they simply refuse to believe that the life they had always lived has changed so much. Much like the men who react with anger to the idea of women in leadership, they simply refuse to let go of their grip on what the world is supposed to ensure is their right. I don’t have a lot of sympathy for these idiots, but I have a little.
My personal adjustment to social isolation has not been very traumatic. Although I spent years in activities that required extroverted behaviour, as a teacher and a camp director and a kids’ club leader, I am an acknowledged introvert. I’m quite happy, actually, to not be attending meetings or socializing – quite happy to spend my evenings reading a good book or watching a movie in the comfort and snack-laden environment of our TV room. And we have, when the sun has been shining, been able to take a few leisurely walks along the canal, nodding cheerfully as we quickly pass, at a distance, others doing the same thing.
There are a few issues. I am not used to having a husband underfoot all day long, who thinks nothing of demanding my attention or help – usually with the @#$%&* computer -- at any time, no matter what I’m involved in. Weighed in the balance of the alternative, however, I am so thankful to have a companion at home to share this time with. And, usually, he’s not too grumpy. Except when the @#$%&* cat throws up on the rug.
Thank goodness for the technology the brilliant younger generation has provided for us! What would we do without the ability to check the latest coronavirus numbers at a moment’s notice? Or to watch all those absorbing cat videos? Or penguins/goats visiting other animals? Or seeing what latest gaffe has come out of the White House? Or learning new recipes – thank you Alison Roman, and Jamie Oliver, and the many other chefs who are broadening our recipe repertoires along with our waistlines. And what would we do without the weekly Skype call with our family in Switzerland, I can’t imagine. We missed our usual Easter trip with them this year, and are holding on to hope that we’ll still see them here at the end of June. But at this point, nothing is certain. I think that’s the worst part of this whole pandemic experience, that we are so uncertain of what is going to happen next week, never mind next month.
Another technological marvel I’m thankful for is Zoom. Amazingly, I can still gather with my women’s Bible study group every week, from the comfort of my own desk chair. It’s not always perfect – and there are unexpected entertaining moments when a dog or child or husband wanders into the room. The father of our pastor’s wife can be counted on to either phone his daughter in the middle of our meeting, or wander into the room where his wife is participating in the discussion, to ask a question in his booming voice. We love him anyway. Apparently a recent US Supreme Court meeting was interrupted by a flushing toilet; we haven’t had that happen yet. So I am enjoying living in the future that science fiction when I was a child predicted would occur.
Speaking of science fiction, do you think aliens are somehow controlling the weather this spring? We had snow today – May 8, for Pete’s sake! Maybe the same aliens who are messing with our spring are also throwing the coronavirus at us. My theory is at least as plausible as some of the ones I’ve heard suggested. Cell phone towers? Bioweapon? Can it be true that we’ve just run up against nature at its most capricious, and that we have to admit we can’t control everything? Naah. When we were kids, we blamed everything on the Russians. Now it’s the Chinese. When we run out of Asians to blame, we’ll have to fall back on aliens.
We, i.e. Bill and I, are actually a lot more fortunate than many others. We have a lovely back yard, lush this time of the year with daffodils and hyacinths. We’ve planted many tulips over the years, but since we also have a heritage walnut tree in our yard, we are cursed with squadrons of squirrels, who can be very entertaining to watch, but who are convinced that every tulip bulb under the soil and every tulip bud that survives to poke its head above the soil is intended for their gourmet tastes. So we’ve given up on tulips of our own, and enviously admire our neighbour’s gorgeous display. Meanwhile, we’re grateful that squirrels dislike daffodils, so we add a few more – daffodils, that is, not squirrels -- each year, and they lift our spirits as we stroll in our yard. We are genuinely sorry for those of you cooped up in apartments.
I want to pass along some book recommendations. I’ve discovered a Canadian author who writes mysteries set in BC just after WWII. The heroine is a former British secret agent, who meets a dashing RCMP officer in the course of solving murders in her small community. Lots of fun, by Iona Whishaw. Another Canadian author, David Bezmozgis, is a lovely writer, but paints a more sober picture of the immigrant experience. And for a new look at the conflicts between East and West, dig into The Silk Roads, by Peter Frankopan. It’s non-fiction, and thick, but fascinating. You have extra time now for reading, so treat yourself to some challenging historical stuff.
I will sign off for now, and hopefully Bill will be back next week for your regularly scheduled email.
Stay safe, please.
Pauline
Location:
St. Catharines
Publish online:
Yes