Dear J,

Will our movers show up on Friday? They’re classed as an essential service, so it’s legal. I wouldn’t blame them for delaying, though we’d be stuck squatting in our current place until the end of the emergency. I somehow don’t feel any urge to complain. Compared to most folks, we’re in a good spot.

The virus is in our neighborhood. The sellers left behind a bike they wanted a friend to pick up; the friend, Tim, was supposed to meet us this Sunday. He canceled. Four people in his building are in self-quarantine; Tim’s scared he’s got the thing.

I cleaned the new place today. Our original plan was to hire a professional crew, but that didn’t feel cricket, quite, with the shelter in place order imminent. I used disinfectant to clean every inch of the kitchen countertops, cabinet doors and hardware, and of course the appliances. Ditto for light switches. I mopped the hardwood floors; I brushed dust off the leaves of the ficus tree we inherited. Lemon oil was fighting with the smell of fresh paint (but losing) when I locked up the place for the day.

The painters took down all the window treatments; they did not put them back up. That’s a project that’ll require both Paul and I; my right arm is still wonky, and particularly bad at reaching up. Normal times, I might ask my doc to investigate my shoulder more thoroughly; for now, I’m content with a heating pad, Advil and the mild muscle relaxant he already prescribed. Window treatments can wait.

There’s a retirement home near our rented apartment; usually bustling. Quiet today. Just a hand full of residents out, half in masks.

Did I tell you the painters got my direction wrong? In the rush to get it done, they used the peach I intended for the guest bedroom in the dining room; the guest bed they did in ivory. The funny thing is, I like the way it came out. There’s a logic to using the same ivory color for the common/public areas (halls and kitchen) and the guest bedroom. And the peach in the dining room looks sweet next to the naval blue in the living room.

Again, different times, I might have insisted that the crew stick around long enough to make the paint job match my original vision. But I felt like I was quitting while I was ahead. The work they did restoring the crown molding is remarkable; the paint lines aren’t perfect, but they’re sharper than their predecessors’ work.

I actually felt good handing over the last installment of payment to my lead contractor. Five guys worked on our place; five guys will have a little bit of cash to weather the drought ahead.

Let’s hope we get through this thing soon.

Love!

C/