When I take showers I turn on the baby monitor so I can hear Calvin in his room down the hall. He plays in his safety bed with a bunch of his favorite toys—Sesame Street cell phone, crocheted rabbit rattle, Oball football and other light-up, musical toys. Today, he is doing all sorts of vocalizing—screeching, grousing, cooing. When he coos he sounds like a big baby, which in ways, though he is sixteen, is just what he still is. When I hear his happy sounds, I imagine how awful it would be if he got sick. I feel my eyes sting and well up with tears wondering if we'll be able to fend off this flu.
Last night we got about a half foot of heavy snow. I wish Calvin and I could go outside and build snowmen and women and make snow angels. I wish we could go cross-country skiing at the fields and through the woods. I wish I could feel safe taking him to the grocery store, which is one of the two places he likes to go. The other is Cafe Creme, which is closed to indoor seating but, like many local establishments, is offering food and drinks to go.
Hopefully the town, which has been practically shuttered, will clear the sidewalks soon. Hopefully the snow will melt quickly; Calvin cannot walk well in deep snow or slush.
This coronavirus shit is getting real. The projected numbers are sobering at best. There is a massive shortage of ventilators and masks for sick people and health care workers. GOP senators are trying to funnel money to their rich constituents and corporate backers, twisting the truth to fit the absurd narrative their so-called leader tweeted so recklessly, "Democrats want the virus to win," when what Democrats are trying to do is to get a win for the average American worker. The Occupant is still lying to the American people, trying to save face, shifting blame, playing down the pandemic to secure his reelection and the solvency of his private businesses. Too many Americans put their faith in the Charlatan instead of in the scientists and experts who know and tell the truth.
I towel off and get dressed. Calvin is "singing" from his bed. Though he sounds happy for now, I feel sorry for him and for us, what with little to nothing to do. I imagine he is bored, but I guess that should be the least of my worries. We've got to take it one day at a time, even when it snows.
Last night we got about a half foot of heavy snow. I wish Calvin and I could go outside and build snowmen and women and make snow angels. I wish we could go cross-country skiing at the fields and through the woods. I wish I could feel safe taking him to the grocery store, which is one of the two places he likes to go. The other is Cafe Creme, which is closed to indoor seating but, like many local establishments, is offering food and drinks to go.
Hopefully the town, which has been practically shuttered, will clear the sidewalks soon. Hopefully the snow will melt quickly; Calvin cannot walk well in deep snow or slush.
This coronavirus shit is getting real. The projected numbers are sobering at best. There is a massive shortage of ventilators and masks for sick people and health care workers. GOP senators are trying to funnel money to their rich constituents and corporate backers, twisting the truth to fit the absurd narrative their so-called leader tweeted so recklessly, "Democrats want the virus to win," when what Democrats are trying to do is to get a win for the average American worker. The Occupant is still lying to the American people, trying to save face, shifting blame, playing down the pandemic to secure his reelection and the solvency of his private businesses. Too many Americans put their faith in the Charlatan instead of in the scientists and experts who know and tell the truth.
I towel off and get dressed. Calvin is "singing" from his bed. Though he sounds happy for now, I feel sorry for him and for us, what with little to nothing to do. I imagine he is bored, but I guess that should be the least of my worries. We've got to take it one day at a time, even when it snows.
 |
| On my way to the fields |
No comments:
Post a Comment