Disorderly Conduct & There Is a Balm

I rose at 4:20 a.m. today, as most Wednesdays these past five months, hurried into clothing, picked up my sorted basket of laundry, supplies, and bottle of still-precious alcohol, headed down my housing's corridor to the far end laundry room, disinfected machine surfaces and fired up a couple of washers to do my laundry before anyone else showed up. This, to account for so many people slacking off on the masking we're asked to wear outside our senior-citizen apartments. Some sloppy adherence to protocols seems due to age-related, unintentional flubbing, but more often seems just a willful, dumb thing--cover their mouths with a mask pulled below their nose, or worse, pulling it all the way below their chin to say something to someone else, or sit close to each other to chat with their masks under their chins. Lip-service to masking in broad daylight.

All this makes me think we're entering an even more dangerous part of the disease-spreading than even at first when we knew much less about this pathogen. Unfortunate numbers of people, through one thought process or another, shed responsibility and humanity to err on the side of convenient denial leading to more death and misery. It's both scary and maddening.

I'm hunkered down much the same as I was at the beginning of the lockdown, but with the addition of walks once or twice a week at my family's farm and outdoor distance visiting when one or another of the family gratifyingly come outside while I'm inspecting the garden or hugging pets. Those furry and feathered (chicken) friends became my welcome source of touch all this time--thank you, Toby, Frezz, Fancy, Sebastian and Miss Florence the Friendly Chicken. I've been to some medical appointments for issues that were put off for months. Those venues and personnel were assiduous in protection protocols. I haven't gotten up the nerve to try out the hair-cutter yet. Soon my hair will earn a Medal for Disorderly Conduct.

Disinfecting and precautions are a little more meshed into my routines now. Reading one of the interviews with Dr. Fauci outlining what he and his wife do in their daily lives to maintain common-sense protections was satisfying because I found my routines are similar. I originally had based my responses on the research I did to help out long-distance for Dimetrios' illness and for COVID19, all simultaneously happening late February and early March; since, augmented over the months with reading as new angles to the treacherous virus are discovered and reported.

Mental? Hmmm. Well, so far fairly good--according to self-analysis. Yes, the recent loss in our family is an undercurrent that surfaces at unexpected times. Electronic, snail mail or phone contact provides extraordinary relief. Somehow, we humanoids need each other; at the least it affirms our existence; at the best, it affirms love. As a single person holed up in an apartment, I have not yet run out into the streets screaming, but I'd say I'm stressed at times; especially, if I don't ration news and time of day I take it in.

Well, that's today's laundry morning and my thoughts and irritations.

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From the Art Desk: While science races for treatments and vaccines, we wait and wait and wait. There are balms that span all ages and cultures to soothe our spirits. Here's just one to have with your morning coffee, or apply as needed...

From Paula Borchardt, graphic designer, artist, musician, and photographer in Tucson, 40 new works of art ...Illustrations.