Dear J,

We officially exhausted our redecoration budget with the purchase of new window shades. Fourteen in all, due to arrive whenever Amazon decides there isn’t more pressing stuff to deliver. Wood, not vinyl slats. I priced out indoor shutters, a la the sun room in Mom & Dad’s place; turns out I’m perfectly happy with simple wooden slats. We ordered a replica Eames chair and foot rest back in early March, which has yet to arrive. I was determined to buy American, and the chair is made in NY… so who knows when it’ll arrive?

I can’t complain. About anything. Well, okay, my right arm is still messed up. I’m starting to wonder if surgery might be necessary; the mystery won’t be resolved until the plague ends. For now, just a minor chronic owie. And I’m right back to ‘I can’t complain.’

P and I haven’t gotten take out or ordered in once since arriving in our new place; in the before times, we ate out about 75% of the time. I miss Chipotle! We’re starting to stock an emergency supply of nonperishable food items in case we both get ill at the same time.

Meanwhile, P is running an online role playing game for his dad, sister and eight year old nephew. It’s like Dungeons and Dragons, but aimed at a younger audience; the player characters are all dogs. Cute to hear three generations of his family laughing and shouting at each other via teleconferencing. (P does a voice for his rat characters that is a guaranteed crowd pleaser.)

I ventured into the grocery store today, mask and gloves on. Probably three quarters of people (all the employees!) wore masks, mostly improvised. I’m making lasagna this week, for the first time in decades. Waffles are also on the menu, thanks to a new waffle maker!

I can’t read about our federal government (or the Dem mayor of NYC) without feeling my spirits sink or, alternately, ignite spontaneously from anger. The economic storm could destroy the family store. This virus could kill Mom, you, me, anyone in the family. We aren’t getting back to safe (the old ‘normal’ is gone) without a smart, well-funded, well-executed plan. Step one of my plan would be to put Jared Kushner in public stocks and let people throw rotten fruit at him. I’m not a monster; I’d make sure everyone stayed ten feet away and only lobbed produce, not loogies.

Oooh, P just emerged from his office; he’s helping me hang art prints today. Probably better for me to focus on stuff I can actually influence…

Much love! 

C/