The wind blew too many trees down for the power lines to handle. My dog, scared by the silence of power outages, and I sat at the dinner table. His ears were pulled back, a sure sign that he was afraid of the arrival of nature’s next indignity to hit in April. While his ears were low, his eyes were alert for any crumb that might fall from my dinner of bagels dipped in olive oil. He patiently waited until I offered him a small saturated piece. With no grace at all, he brutishly plucked it from my fingers. Delicious.

It’s been the better part of a month since I ran with my friends. Last night, my phone blew up with a texting storm that pushed the boundary between laughing and gagging. The few moments of inappropriateness and the destruction of innocence brought a much-needed relief from days of monotony inflicted by social distancing. I’m not sure when I’ll be back around those guys again, but it was sure nice to hear from them. Hopefully everyone, everywhere, is being safe and able to avoid this virus. It would be good, too, if you checked in with all your lost peeps.

Coronavirus has everything going crazy. It’s bad and there is no but to it. In addition to the health consequences we are facing, the economic impact will be harsh. Let’s hope that each person does his/her/their part to curb the spread of the virus. And then, let’s hope that businesses, banks, landlords, and whoever else needs money can do their part to help the economy recover. Wouldn’t it be great if this was not politicized, monetized, self-aggrandized, and manipulated so that only a few make out on the deal. Getting people to wash their hands will be easier.

Fred’s week went down right after he had his best swim. The water pushed him along, nearly parting as he pushed his newfound pace. There was a post-exercise rush that ended as soon as he got to work. The weight of shutdown culture came crashing down. The drowning nature of the fear existing from the defense of other people’s feelings pulled Fred under. He did the only thing he knew to do. He held his breath, dropping out of sight and stewing about what life was becoming, an unfortunate set of experiences that stole the good from a super swim.

architecture building capitol dawn
Photo by kendall hoopes on Pexels.com

Do you think the Impeachment thing is a scam? I bet if you do, you have strong opinions about one side or the other. The Democrats say what they say. The Republicans say what they say. Both sides call the other idiots.

They are both correct.

My opinion on that matter does not matter, but I wonder if the leaders are making decisions about the process that will be good for the country in seven generations. I think some senators are working to preserve itself. It’s really too bad they aren’t working on behalf of the Constitution.

Get him gone.

It’s come to this, bundled up in gray sweats, lots of layers, Phish on repeat, and a struggle to keep my eyes open. The day of service has passed on I feel like I’ve been going all day, running, driving, trying new foods, putting laundry away, and whatever else got done. The clock says that it is only seven, but I feel like I could sleep right now. Why not, I napped through the first half of the Sixers’ game this afternoon. Sometimes workdays are easier than holidays. For now, I’m chilling, Roggae keeping me awake until I’m absolutely out.

Today, two friends gave me notebooks from the early 1900s that have notes and observations written in the most sloppy handwriting ever. I am going to attempt to decipher the notes and see if there is a story there. Suppose that this is some sort of major invention that came to make life easier. I’m guessing without having started that the chemist was working on something for transportation or the military because one of the only words I recognized right away was “rubber.” I have no idea, though, only curiosity and my own notebook and observations to figure it out.

colorful clown toy

There were a few minutes left in the longest school day of the year. My students were deep into a battle of kickball when the emergency lights around the gym started blinking. The calm and panic-inducing voice commanding everyone to leave the building. We went out into the blinding sun and winter’s wind. Luckily, the sun was winning and it wasn’t too cold. The students walked to the safe zone and we waited to hear what could have caused the unexpected building evacuation. Fortunately, nothing was too wrong. A bag of microwavable popcorn burned. The smoke ended the day.

It was like I had never been in a classroom before. They looked at me like I was some kind of freak speaking a language they had never heard. In less than two weeks, either I had forgotten how to teach or they had no clue what I had taught them over the last four months. This was no dream. This was first period after the holiday recess. I scrambled for the right things to say recognizing that time has a way of bringing things back. Somewhere in a story about my high school teacher, they came back to life.