I heard it outside and couldn't figure out what it was at first. Decided to walk in the woods so the trees could help keep my hat from blowing off. That was good--- just some patches of mud to negotiate.
Just now I went ahead and ordered myself a blanket I've wanted a long time. Strange time of year to buy a wool blanket maybe, but it turned out to be a good one; some discount site had it----the Pendleton Glacier blanket---at a deep discount, with another 15% off on top of that. Maybe it's nuts to splurge in this uncertain time, but then again, maybe it's also the perfect time to decide I can have that blanket now.
The neighborhood ducks are back. And this year I saw 'em in my yard first. In the lake that forms out front when it rains a bunch, like it does pretty much every Spring.
My insomnia's kicked up big time these days. I'm not consciously aware of it being connected to virus fears/stress/weirdness, but it's sort of hard to imagine it wouldn't have some element of this situation in the mix. And I've read how even the "mild to moderate" cases of the sickness are horrible. Maybe shouldn't have read about it? I dunno.
Back in the day my ancestors would hitch up the wagons and go into town, or anyhow the expression associated with that trip came down to my folks' generation. Farm people, doncha know. Toward the end of her life I think that way of regarding supplies and the homestead was there with my mom. And I knew the grandmother who was born before folks had electricity at their homes. It's still an insanely cushy place to procure supplies, this country. The hard times are hardly hard times that way. But we're in for something, apart from the virus itself, and there IS that, the virus. Scary.
I try to picture 1000 coffins for a day in Italy. It's not like a war, exactly.
I know someone who works in a hospital in Detroit. She is way shook. How quickly the whole hospital filled up with COVID cases. Michigan now has more cases than Washington State.
Meanwhile the person I know in Tennesee does seem to have caught on, this week, how serious it is. Before they were, like, life-as-usual we-don't-worry-us-Southerners.
My feet are cold now. Too bad that blanket isn't here yet. Tired ol' orange and white checks still, tonight.