Coronavirus Hair

Everyone is getting tired with staying inside, getting fed up with seeing few people in person but those in our immediate household, and just a little embarrassed at looking at our multicolored roots and long hair. If you live in my state of South Carolina, that is no longer a problem because we can go to indoor restaurants, gyms, tattoo and massage parlors, pools, barber shops, and hair salons.

My family and friend know that I watch and record the daily data so I will know when I am comfortable venturing out, particularly to get my hair done. Until that time, I had to take matters into my own hands, so in March I purchased a pair of scissors and a box of root touch-up. I also purchased toilet paper at Sams Club. I saw the writing on the wall way back then.

Last month, Dad helped me do my roots, but one box was not enough because there was a lot of work to be done. So with two boxes in hand, I donned an old shirt that was headed to clothing recycling and then mixed up the magic potion. I took care of what I could do on my own with the gray hairs I could see and then handed dad the brush. (This is called trust because he was working out of eyeshot.)

He painted away, and every so often I heard him exclaim, “Oh, wow!” as he discovered how bad it really was. I was not happy with his little comments. We all know that he has lost much of the hair on the crown of his head, but he has somehow managed to maintain a lot of his original brown hair. (I would rather have gray than none!) He also commented that he could understand why it costs too much because it is not an easy job if done well.

Anyway, when he was done, I rinsed, conditioned and dried, and voila! It looked great. Dad’s response: “You owe me $100.”

Ee I Ee I O!

I have not written for a few weeks because, as it turns out, staying at home during this pandemic has kept me busier than I had anticipated. We are cooking more and experimenting with more recipes based upon what food is on hand, talking on the phone to friends and family much more than before, gathering and graphing data of daily Covid-19 cases (that’s the mathematician in me), and learning how to farm from inside our home.

My jalapeno pepper plant that I saved last year from the deer attack produced peppers throughout the winter while nestled in the pot near my kitchen window. Now it’s beginning to flower again and produce a new round of peppers. Hello Mexican night!

My Instacart shopper brought me home a sad-looking, wilted basil plant, but with a little tender loving care I was able to revive it and am almost ready for my famous red pepper and basil pasta sauce.

I am also watching the pot out in the yard, where I threw a package of basil seeds several weeks ago and am now beginning to notice a few small leaves peeking out of the soil.

Now to the really fun plants. I learned that you can purchase a bunch of scallions and then regrow them by placing the white stems in a glass of water, and if successful, you never have to buy another bunch ever again!

After watching those green onions grow, I went to the good old Google machine and searched for other edibles that can be regrown from scraps and low and behold, I learned I could grow my own Romaine lettuce. I admit I am not a huge fan of Romaine. I prefer spinach leaves in my salad, but this sounded intriguing so I decided to give it a whirl.

I retrieved the bottom of the plant that Dad had just thrown in the garbage . It was inside a bag so it was not yuckily (is that a word?) covered with food garbage, and I placed it inside a wide glass filled with just an inch of water.

 

This process allegedly takes about 10 days, and then it’s time to move it to a pot of dirt. So let’s see what happens. I will let you know.

Until then, goodbye from Old McMommy!

That Man was Nuts!

While Dad and I were out for our evening stroll recently (It may have been while in our car. Time and our activities are just so muddled lately), we were passed by a slow-moving car, and I was immediately transported back in time. I saw what appeared to be an adult seated in the passenger seat with a young person at the wheel. The man appeared to be looking down, presumably reading something very important on his cell phone rather than watching possibly the last moments of his life unfold before his eyes.

I told Dad that it appeared that she was a new driver, and I was surprised that he was not paying any attention to her. When I was teaching all of you to drive, I was always conscious that I was taking my life in my hands, so I was never as relaxed as the passenger in that car.

I especially recalled driving to a mall in Atlanta with Casey, and she did not  want to drive on a highway (nor did I). But I knew she had to learn, so I figured I would throw caution to the wind and force her to drive north on 400 for our little shopping excursion.

There was no way that I was relaxed enough to be surfing the Internet or checking my email. No siree! I had a responsibility as a driving instructor and to the preservation of our lives to keep my eyes on Casey and the cars whizzing by us.

She was a nervous wreck and made me do the driving on the return trip home. What was wrong with that man in the other car?

Preschool Sadness

It is difficult being a young social butterfly during a pandemic. For those of us who enjoy our solitude and have plenty of projects to keep us busy, it has not been too difficult. However, when you are either too young to understand or perhaps older, with dementia issues, this has been a particularly trying time.

How do you explain to a preschooler, filled with energy and love, that she cannot see her best friend or hug her grandparents? How do you really make her understand why she can no longer have playdates or go to school?

There has been talk of opening schools, perhaps with desks spread out more to maintain our social distance and requiring everyone to wear masks. Is that realistic in classrooms with space challenges, and is that possible with very young children whose modus operandi is spontaneity. Can you really stop that energy?

I have seen young children in China wearing masks. I even saw two little boys running joyfully towards each other, with their arms outspread in anticipation of a hug, after being separated from each other for months. But in China, masks have been commonplace for a long time, unlike here in the United States.

This will be a challenge, and I hope the sadness these little ones are experiencing will not last for long. It was interesting, after hearing about these feelings of depression in the young, that I opened up my news app today to read a story titled “How Parents Can Protect Kids’ Mental Health during the Pandemic.”

I guess a lot of people are having these concerns.

http://bit.ly/2fzdKPK

You Want to Give me What?

Each of us in our immediate family has begun to dip our toes in having our food delivered. I know we are lucky that we have been able to do so, and each of us has our own reasons for not venturing out into the grocery stores. I am grateful to the people who have shopped for us because they, like our doctors, nurses, and first responders are also heroes in our Covid-19 world. As I mentioned recently, this point was highlighted in an emotional news segment in which a mother wept as she spoke of her daughter—a grocery store worker—who had lost her life by simply doing her job.

Today I am writing about some of the laughs Dad and I have had while putting together our shopping lists, because these days, we all need to smile about something. For those of you who have not yet experienced home food delivery, I want to explain a little about how it works.

For us, we have used the Instacart App, which enable us to have our food delivered from Publix, Kroger, Sam’s Club, Costco, and CVS. The stores vary according to where you live. Since Dad is our family shopper, he has been developing a list and adding items before they are needed. The app informs him whether an item is available, and if not, it offers him a substitute. This is where the fun begins.

When he decided to cook some Mexican dinners, he added low carb tortillas to the list. The replacement was a fun alternative, but it did not fit in with his dinner plans. He was offered Breyers carb smart ice cream.

A Mexican dinner is not complete without some cheese, but when that was unavailable, Instacart’s response was a choice of Genoa salami or turmeric chili matcha green tea. The tea is allegedly full of antioxidants and is said to energize your body, but will it melt on my burrito? I don’t think so.

While we are still not needy in the toilet paper department, Dad is still on the lookout because he does not want to wait until the last moment. When he recently asked for the heavily desired bathroom product, he was told that he could have Reynolds wrap instead. Now there is no way in hell that anyone can convince me that this will work.

I can’t wait until he works on the next list!

 

What’s Next

Each day the Covid-19 cases and deaths grow, and as a mathematician, I can’t help but look at the numbers, update my own statewide charts, and make my own predictions despite knowing that the data is inaccurate. As an example, in my state, the reported cases were 2,792 yesterday, while the possible cases are estimated to be as high as 19,476. That is a difference of sevenfold!

Dad and I are personally remaining at home except for our evening walks, but I worry about what will happen on Sunday because religious services are not banned here in South Carolina. The changes by our governor are just recommendations rather than mandates. Is he kidding?!

“I can’t speak for other governors but this governor is not going to intrude on the First Amendment. That is an absolute right. We are encouraging pastors and others and any house of worship and any congregation of any kind to use social distancing. That is go online.”

Governor McMaster encourages churches to “keep doing it that way or have the service outside with social distancing or if you must have a congregation under a roof then use that social distancing. But that First Amendment right is very important, just like the others. We are respecting that.”

I have tried to find the humor in how we are all living under the order to remain at home, because if I don’t, I will do nothing but cry all day. But it is hard not to do so as I talk to Grandma and know how sad she is to be unable to have her regular Saturday visits with Aunt El and daily drop-ins by Aunt Ar.

I watch the pleas of our hospital personnel around the country, and yesterday I cried along with a newscaster as she spoke with a woman who had lost a daughter with cerebral palsy who had been working as a grocery clerk.

We get daily updates from my friend who was finally feeling well enough to drive herself to be tested even though she is still ill.  I worry about Uncle Dave, who is at the beginning stages of ALS and is now sick with what he believes is the flu. Last night he needed some Tylenol for his headache and something to help with his nasal congestion, but he could not climb the stairs to get his medicine. That makes me so sad and angry.  I am trying from afar to convince him to get tested, because his lungs are still strong and he may need medical intervention to help them remain strong.

I fear that Trump will open up businesses, and while many governors will disagree, I know that mine will not be among them, so Mark will return to work. As a result, Dad and I will not be able to interact with the grandkids for a very, very long time. While our two families have been maintaining our social distancing, we have been hanging on to the hope that we will soon be permitted to get together. But a back-to-work order will ruin that dream.

What will happen next?

 

Another Time, Another Quarantine

During the year that my grandmother was in quarantine for possible tuberculosis, my grandfather was also in quarantine, but for him, it was not TB or the Spanish flu that put him out of service. Papa was “somewhere in England” in isolation with four other soldiers in his ward. A total of thirteen other soldiers were ill with German measles. That vaccine was not available for another forty years.

In a letter to his sister Ann in mid-June, he wrote that he would be in isolation for twenty-one days after having gotten sick a week earlier. He was not feeling ill, and it was apparently not a big concern to the doctors because my grandfather mentioned that they were bringing in a piano “for us to have a dance… The nurses here are great for dancing. They are very nice but are not in with the girls at home. There is only one girl for me, Ann, and she is in Boonton, and you tell her to stay there and wait for me.”

I hardly knew Papa, so reading this letter gave me an insight into his feelings towards my grandmother when they were engaged and they were separated by war. It’s rather sweet.

Just a page of his quarantine letter.- 6-17-1918